All You Have
by Rosalyn Angel
Summary: M17MT. When a hint of hesitation on Trunks' behalf leaves Juunana alive in the wake of their final fight, the android finds himself the houseguest of his greatest foe in the weeks to come. Unable to escape, Juunana battles with a puzzling question: why?
1. of wristbands and mothers

Author's Notes: Do you know how HARD it is to keep Juunana and Trunks in character but get them together at the same time!? AAAGGHHHHH!! But, nevertheless, I think I got something worked out. Anyway (and unfortunately), if Juunana seems a little out of character at any one point, I'm sorry. I tried. And it's also from his point of view. This story is set in the Mirai timeline and everything is the same as it happened on Dragonball Z, except that I changed one thing that seemed to have thrown off what happens after Trunks comes back after the Cell Games. ^_^ You'll see what I mean, I suppose. And blast it all, I refuse to write Mirai Trunks with his short hair! Therefore, for this, he didn't cut his hair before he went back to his timeline. HA! Somewhat AU, not too much. Enjoy! 

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have" **

**~chapter one~**

by: Rosalyn Angel, aka Rose Angel

As I watched my sister's ashes float down around you, I knew you were stronger than me. I knew you could, if you wished so, rip me limb from limb and watch my circuits spark and my blood flow. I knew you could merely stand in place and be unharmed if I were to riddle you with my strongest punches. I knew I didn't stand a chance, just like my sister hadn't. And you knew it too.

So why? Why didn't you blast me to pieces? I _am_ an android. I _am _a murderer. I slaughtered thousands-- no, millions. All with a smile on my face. I killed your father and friends, even your best friend. Gohan, wasn't it? You screamed curses at my sister and me in so many battles when you were losing. You threatened us, you wished us to damnation, you hated us. So why didn't you get rid of me like you did my sister? Why did you lower your hand after preparing a ki blast to obliterate me?

With my mouth hanging open and wide eyes and twitching hands, I watched as that golden aura faded away and your hair fell back down to your shoulders in a tumbling wave of lavender. That was the first time I had seen you in a span of several days, but you looked so much older. Taller, more muscular, with a deadly scowl that I hadn't seen on your face before. The most obvious thing was that your hair was grown to your shoulders, partly covering your face from view. But even through those strands, I could see your cold eyes. Deep blue and hard, without a hint of happiness in them as they bore into me. I could tell you hated me. It was very plain to see.

And all you said was, "Follow me."

I could have run away, yes. I could have attacked you full force when you had your back turned, of course. But what good would it have done me? You were far stronger. If I ran, you'd easily catch me. If I attacked, you'd easily put me in my place. It probably didn't matter whether I made it (to wherever you were going) bloodied or not.

But there was one thing I understood well: if I followed the demands, however degrading they may be, I had a chance of living. My sister said once that I love life. And I do. In whatever sick twisted way, I do. So I followed you to the air. Sorry, sis, but I'm afraid you'll have to be alone in death for a while.

In the air, I even knew that you didn't want me to fly beside you. So I followed a little behind but not far. If I slowed down to get farther behind, then you'd slow down to keep the distance between us the same. I figured that was because I had no ki to sense to make sure I was still doing as told, so you had to listen to the winds to conclude I was indeed behind you. You didn't want to have to look at me to make sure I was still there.

It was only a few minutes before you nodded your head back at me silently then pointed to the ground. I got the idea and spiraled down after you to land in front of a dome-shaped building with cracked windows and worn black letters on the side. I squinted my eyes to try to read them but could only pick out a few letters like C, S and R. It was then I realized that you had led me to your home when you opened the creaky door and stepped inside. Only a blue-eyed glance in my direction was to tell me to step in also.

It hadn't occurred to me at the time, but now that I think about it... Yeah, it _was_ weird that you didn't call out something like, "Mom, I'm home!" or at least a joyous sound for destroying my sister (I growled at the thought but contained myself. After all, I love life). Maybe you didn't want to alarm her when she walked over to you and saw me or maybe-- I was making up possible excuses back then. It hadn't dawned upon me to think that she was dead.

So in my ignorance, I scanned around the rooms for her as I followed you to the back of the house. It's not that I cared; I was only curious. To my knowledge, neither my sister nor I had killed her, so I just assumed she was alive and well. When I didn't spot her anywhere, I asked you, "Where is your 'endearing' mother?"

You grunted and gave me a simple, "She went out."

I was satisfied with that answer for a while. But after days of "being out," I understood just what "out" meant. I'm getting off the topic here. Let's trail back.

You led me into what was apparently your mother's lab. The common person might have been awestruck at the inventions that were "in progress" and littered about the counter tops and even the floor. But I wasn't common. My own design outmatched any of the other machines in the room, so I wasn't impressed too much.

But I was surprised when you picked something off from the counter and held it toward me. It looked like a metal wristband, but I didn't have time to look at it thoroughly until it wobbled and snapped from your fingers and tightly onto my wrist. It was dreadfully cold and I didn't care for how tightly latched on it was. It was thin and smooth like a skintight bracelet, and most of all, it annoyed me.

I reached up my other hand to pry the thing off, but as soon as I was ready to rip it away, a jolt was sent up my arm and through my body. Just so you know, it was _painful_. It brought me to my knees, almost to the point I couldn't move or do much at all except for gasp. I tried to bear against the jolts but that just sent more.

"Relax," I heard you say. I figured if I relaxed though, that would make me feel the full force of the jolts, but I guessed I wanted to try anything then to get it to stop. So I obeyed, and to my amazement, the pain vanished. I sat, stunned.

Your shadow towered over me. I looked up from my place on the hard floor to see you glaring at me as always. You said, "A device my mother was working on to contain you and Juuhachi in case you two couldn't be destroyed. It's magnetic, so it'll stay on you. And if you try anything funny, it'll sense your muscles tensing and then... you already know what it does. You can't fight or fly. So I suggest you stay here for a while."

I listened to your speech warily. You were practically describing my fate and I was almost regretting following you. But, I was alive. I'd figure a way to kill you so I could start my reign again... I was going to have to do a lot of figuring.

Over the course of the next few days, I never left the house. I didn't eat (didn't need to), I didn't talk to you, though I did take advantage of your shower (yay for waterproof torture mechanisms that cling to your wrist...), and I did listen to your radio, which you disliked because I sung along. That was why I sang. I kind of wished for a TV, but I figured one of my latter attacks had wiped out most TV stations. That was one action of mine, the only one, that I guess I truly regretted.

You didn't seem to do much either. You often kept a watchful eye on me. When you weren't doing that, you either crammed food into your mouth, slept, or trained. On the matter of sleeping, I stayed in the guest room. The room had what living needed but otherwise, it was bare. No personal touch added. Except for a few clothes I "borrowed" from you sprawled out on the floor.

We didn't speak a word to each other. We weren't friends, so why would we? I knew my place and had a desire to live, so I stayed in line. God, what did I reduce myself to back then?

It was over the few days that I began to wonder just where your mother had gone "out" to. Finally, the conclusion that she was dead hit me. As to how she died, I hadn't the faintest. I didn't bother to ask you, because I _knew _you wouldn't tell me. So I silently pondered. It could have been anything from a disease to a freak accident. Humans die so easily.

It was one night, just about when my eyes were going to close in slumber, that I was sure your mother had died. It had been about a week since that wretched thing had attached to my wrist, and a week's worth of trying to figure out how to get away safely. I had considered just walking away when you were sleeping, but without flight, I would never get too far. You'd effortlessly find me, probably be pissed off, and then would rip me to shreds. I would have gotten away, true, but not safely.

I'm straying from my topic again. Anyway, about your mother... I was just about to fall asleep when I heard a peculiar sound. At first I tried to ignore it (the sound was muffled, barely audible), but curiosity got the better of me. So I slipped on my shirt since I tended to sleep in my jeans, and quietly crept into the hall. I paused to determine where the sound was coming from and decided to journey farther down the dark corridor. I studied each door until I came across one that had previously always been locked. I pressed my ear to it and found that the source of the sound was inside and it was clearer also. My dark eyebrows knitted; it was almost a-- sobbing?

I carefully turned the doorknob, my mind already guessing what I would find, or maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. Whatever it was, I opened the door and prayed that the creaking hadn't disturbed what was inside. I peeked through the little crack I had made between the door and its frame and spied what looked like a bedroom. I had, ever since arriving there, wondered what was in that room and why it was always locked. So with the opportunity laid out before me, and to find the source of the sound (I could guess, but I had to see it with my own eyes), I almost _eagerly _opened the door farther and stepped fully into the room.

It was you. The first thing I saw when I entered was you. Even through the inky blackness, I saw your form huddled up against the side of a large bed, its blankets and pillows neatly arranged, while one of your hands tightly clenched the side of the comforter spilling over the edge of the mattress. Your long hair was tousled as if you had been tearing at it and your jacket and pants were wrinkled. I understood that you hadn't dressed for the night yet, let alone actually fallen asleep. I hadn't seen you much earlier that day, so I figured that was where you had kept yourself hidden.

I finally managed to take my eyes away from you to confirm that the room was indeed a bedroom. A closet full of clothes, a dresser, a carpet, a-- a closet full of-- women's clothes? Ah, I see. I knew right then. The surroundings, plus your horror-stricken face (which was dried of tears strangely. There was sobbing, but no tears), it was all too clear.

"She's dead," I said casually. Your head whipped around to look at me, but you stayed sitting on the floor. Probably hadn't heard me walk in. "Your mother, that is. I thought so. A week is a little too long to be 'out.'"

That was when you stood up with a forced scowl. I could tell that all you wanted to do was look sad. You're a poor actor, I hope you know.

"You say it as if it's nothing!" you said to me. Those were your first words to me in a few days. I shrugged.

"It is nothing to me," I replied like that was the normal way to answer. "I didn't know her, so why should I care?"

You growled dangerously. You weren't acting anymore. "You were probably her murderer!"

I knew I wasn't. I made it my business to see the face of who I was killing, even when I attacked a crowd of people. Each face held a different expression, and I basked in them all. So if _I _hadn't killed her then...

I remembered.

"She was killed when you were gone for a while. I don't know where you went, but I do know what happened."

Or I could guess. You see, Doctor Gero not only enhanced my sister's and my fighting ability, but our minds too. We were intelligent. We may not seem like it, but the gears in our heads turn fast. I now admit though, that my stubborn pride got in the way of some of my thinking.

"While you were gone," I began with a tone that sounded like 'once upon a time,' "your mother probably had just finished this device you see on my wrist. She wanted to congratulate herself so she wrote you a note just in case you came back before she did, and she went out to go shopping."

Don't you even think for a minute that I didn't see that small piece of paper you kept in your pocket. I may not have been able to read it, but I knew it was there. That's a very important piece of paper for you to keep... isn't it?

"You came back and saw the note and figured she would be home any minute. A day passed but nothing happened. Around the same time, my sister and I had a little quarrel about her wanting to go to a store, so we went separate ways. I came back to find the store in ruins and all she said was this: 'Some blue-haired hag pissed me off.' I learned nothing more than that, but I bet I know just who that hag was."

At this point, you had your fist raised and shaking at me. You had a wild look in your eye and for a moment I doubted I was going to live to the next day, but I pressed on. You always had the best expressions.

"A few days passed for you and you waited, growing more fearful with each vanishing minute. Thoughts crept into your head about her being dead, but you couldn't accept it even though you also couldn't feel her ki, as insignificant as it was, anywhere."

Sis frequently said I had a natural talent to drill into people's heads.

"Then you started to accept it, but didn't like it at all. My sister and I attacked a nearby city, the radio announced it, you confronted us, and we both know what happened then."

I could have gone on...

You bolted over to me and held me by my throat. A flick of your wrist and you could break my neck. There was a primal look on your face; I simply smiled.

"You can't kill me, Trunks."

... I understood so much more.

******

_ A man stands, transfixed. His skin is as flawless as the day he became a teenager. His clothes, though not baggy, blow back from the gentle breeze. He has no emotion on his face as his eyes are pointed down and his arms hang limply by his sides. He has not moved for an entire day, except to blink._

** ~end of chapter one~**


	2. of smiling and photos

Author's Notes: ... second chapter. And not much else. ^_^;; Anyway, enjoy! 

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter two~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

I didn't see you for a few days. After my calm retort to you crushing my throat, you had violently shoved past me and stormed out the door. Yes, I could have escaped. Yes, even safely. But no, I didn't want to. I finally understood what was going on, and I wanted to rub it in your face.

During those days, I had to entertain myself. I would have gone out and blasted a few buildings, but the metal lightweight wristband disagreed. So I stuck myself inside your house (was it home to you anymore, after your mother died?) and messed around. I only took short moments every-so often to wonder where you had gone to or when you would be back. Mostly I trusted my entertainment to the radio, especially to the stations that rumored excitedly about the androids being dead, and fiddling around the rooms to see what I could find. Your mother's lab was particularly interesting, though sadly I didn't find any blueprints or plans on how to get the damn wristband off me.

Since you had left in such a rush, your mother's bedroom had remained unlocked. I would have rummaged around in there, but I resisted. For some reason, the rational side of my mind was telling that _that _would be pushing the limits. But the, say, more wreckless side of me simply said it'd be fun. I eventually settled on not looking around because I wasn't interested in what a woman in her late forties would wear. I shuddered.

How I kept myself from going insane from boredom, I don't know. Maybe I was just anxious for your return so I could prove my theory, but shouldn't that make time go slower? Whatever the case was, hours-- days went by. I had run out of places to look and I had nearly memorized every song they played on the radio.

I sat in a chair in complete silence at night with my legs curled up in front and my arms wrapped around them. The shadows in the dark were always interesting, so I watched them. See, that shadow was the sofa behind me, that shadow was me, and _that _shadow was you-- ... oh.

I craned my black-haired head to the side. You were menacingly standing over me. "Gee, back so soon?"

You snorted at me and crossed your arms. I noticed you had ripped off the sleeves of your blue jacket. "I'm surprised you didn't run away."

"I thought about it," I said honestly. You raised an eyebrow then brushed back some lavender hair from your eyes. You seemed a lot calmer than you had been before; I wondered, did you go out searching for your mother's corpse? Did you find her, bury her? Did that give you some sort of absolution?

I fought against you for years. I _know _you...

"I was training," you said stiffly to explain your absence, as if you knew what I had been thinking. Then, you turned on your heel and went to your room.

... don't lie to me.

******

_The man finally moves to bow his head, closing his eyes as he does so. His breaths come out in little white puffs because of the chill in the air. It's a cold night, but he does not notice._

******

Just a few hours after your return, I heard racket in your bedroom. I was lying on my own bed, shirtless and trying to sleep, as you no doubt threw your pillows and covers to the floor. You were looking for something.

Did I mention that, on one of my strolls exploring your house, I went into your room? I had commented mentally on how bleak it seemed, even more than the guest room did. I couldn't see your personality in it at all. I think the only thing I found that said you lived in there was what I held. I had discovered it under your pillow. It intrigued me enough that I had wanted to keep it. So I did.

A simple thing really. But it must have meant so much more to you. It contained most of your life, and all it was... was a picture. You looked only ten-years-old in it. I still remember when you were a baby. Funny, how I've seen you grow up into what you've become. But that's not my point.

You see, I looked at that picture every night before I fell asleep, ever since I had found it in your room. I saw the one you call Gohan, with both arms intact; your mother; and you. All bunched together, hugging and smiling. Photos like these were rare, I knew. Cameras were of course still around; the trouble was getting the film developed... and actually managing to appear happy. It was strange for me to actually see you smiling, even at the age of ten. Sobbing (I didn't call it crying; there had been no tears), too, was a little strange. I hadn't seen you truly cry before, but I'm sure you have. Just when I wasn't looking.

But _smiling_? So the world does hold its little wonders. Though, this picture was taken-- what? Seven years ago? You probably hadn't smiled since. Maybe that was what made me keep the picture. It intrigued me to a point; you weren't all ice.

That, and it meant something to you. All the more reason to take it.

Just as soon as I was about to slip it into my pocket, you slammed open my door violently and pointed an accusing finger at me.

"Don't you ever... _ever_ go into my room again!" you shouted as you stalked over to me darkly and snatched the picture away. I caught your eyes glancing at it momentarily, and I swear you looked like you were about to cry, but your hard mask slipped into place again.

I totally ignored your earlier demand and instead asked lowly, "How long has it been since you smiled?"

You seemed taken back and I merely sat up and pushed my covers down. You narrowed your eyes at me. You must have understood what I had been thinking. "For your information, I _do _smile. Just not at you or your sister."

I chuckled and swung my legs over the bed, then stood up. Crossing my arms over my bare chest, I stood right in front of you with a smirk, more than likely a little too close for your comfort. "You didn't answer my question," I said smugly. I may not be able to fight physically, but mentally I was still very fit for. "I asked how long it's been." 

Through the darkness, I thought I saw you stammering and trying to hide your wavering eyes with your long hair. I answered for you. 

"Not since your mother went 'out.' Not at all."

Your eyes snapped up to my cool ones as your brow furrowed. I knew I had yet again pressed a button when you harshly spat out, "That's none of your business!"

Not wanting to stand in my presence, you stormed out and away, closing my door loudly behind you. I looked down to find your picture lying at my feet. You had probably dropped it in your rage-- or were you sad? I couldn't tell. Either way, I knew you wouldn't come back for it that night even if you remembered, which you would. You probably couldn't face me so soon. I understood. All too clearly.

I bent over and picked the photo up, then put it into my jean pocket. "I wonder what you would look like now... if you smiled."

I kept it, out of morbid curiosity.

More days passed in a blur, each of us living together in silence. I bet you were surprised when I had left your photo on your pillow about three days after your return. It wasn't because I felt sorry for taking it, no. Simply put, I didn't need it. I had gazed at it so much, I memorized every detail. So I decided to just leave it where you would find it. Of course, that meant disobeying your order not to go into your room, but I guess you let that slide. I mean, you _did _murmur a barely audible, "Thank you," to me for returning your precious picture without a fight.

"What? What was that?" I remember saying to your murmur. "Gratitude? From you? To an android?"

You growled deeply and locked yourself in your room. I didn't hear or see much of you for a few hours, so I raided your kitchen. True, I didn't _need _to eat, but that didn't mean I _couldn't_. And damn, some of that stuff tasted _good_.

It startled me to think that I was actually getting cozy in your house. It was sure as hell more comfortable than the little cave my sister and I had tidied up, but I should have been out conquering the world. I couldn't believe that trying to figure out a way to escape had slipped my mind for a few days. Perhaps it was the tension and thrill of living with an enemy that made me relax (odd, I know).

I must admit, it was also fun studying your expressions whenever you were near. You always seemed uneasy when I looked at you--but no, now that I think about it, you didn't look uneasy... More like... ashamed. Hm, of what? Of yourself? For not killing me and instead letting me live under the same roof as you? Of course you do. The shame gnawed at your insides and ate you alive. Every time you saw me in your house, you were reminded of your failure, your weakness. I knew that, and more. I understood how you worked, how you ticked. Tick tock, Trunks. Tick tock.

And yet, even though the shame pummeled you, you couldn't get rid of me. I don't think you exactly knew why, but something stopped you that one day after you destroyed my sister. You _were _about to kill me, but something in your mind clicked. No doubt though, if your mother had been still alive, you would have killed me in a heartbeat. I'm still thanking sis for getting pissed off and blasting that clothes store.

Guilt, shame, sadness, emotionless, rage, and shame again. Your expressions tended to skip around. But the thing was, your face never gave anything away. Your mouth was always a frown and your eyes always narrowed. But I could tell everything by looking straight into your eyes. You can't hide from me as long as I can see your eyes.

I think one of my favorites was annoyance. I got that a lot whenever I sang along with the radio. I swear you were about to throw the electronic out the window, but you probably figured it was good because it kept me from talking to you.

Now that I really think about it, I had spent a majority of my time watching you. You were my entertainment as long as I had that blasted wristband on. So I observed you squirming under my piercing gaze. Sometimes you would even try to stare back to get me to go away, but those contests always ended with you walking into another room. Naturally I would wait a few minutes and then follow you. I didn't have anything better to do.

Throughout the silent days that passed, a thought lingered in the back of my head. I had seen a lot of expressions from you, but there was one missing: happiness. I never, ever, saw you happy with the exception of that picture. It brought back the curiosity; what would you look like if you smiled? My sister always said I was too curious sometimes. I just couldn't help but wonder. I tried to transform that grinning ten-year-old in my head into what you looked like now, but the smile didn't fit. It just melted off your face. After all, you had no real reason to be happy so I guess that made sense.

So, I became cozy in your house. I didn't have to do anything; you brought the food and kept the place clean. I could tell you did it all for yourself because you never bothered with my room. I just dumped my dirty clothes onto your pile whenever needed and you would mechanically do your duty. You wouldn't have washed my clothes if I hadn't put them with yours. Of course, I borrowed some of your clothes to wear since I had only arrived with one set. Heh, borrowed, as in "took." You also didn't cook for me; you cooked for yourself. I was just by the sidelines and sneaked in a bite whenever I felt like it. As far as you were concerned, I was nothing but a ghost that didn't need to be taken care of, but a ghost that still scared and haunted you. I think the only few times you truly acknowledged my presence were when we talked. I repeat, "few."

Hate to say, I was content for a few days. I had clean clothes, food when I wanted, a roof over my head, and your wonderful expressions to watch. I just wished you showed fear. I missed that one. That was about the only thing that kept reminding me that I needed to escape.

And then, one night... you just seemed to snap.

** ~end of chapter two~**


	3. of locks and radios

Author's Notes: ... wee! More chapterage! One thing I kept forgetting to mention is that this story was inspired by an ongoing "real life" roleplay with my good friend, newtypeshadow. (She has wonderful fanfics, mostly Gundam Wing and original poetry. Go read her stuff!) So yay for her. ^_^ I sincerely hope this particular chapter turned out well and you're a little tense in the latter half, but we'll see... Bwhahaha! Beware of my bad self!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter three~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

It was the same as that one night a while back. I was once again lying in my bed when I heard a muffled wailing. Not a sob, a _wail_. Before it had been a soft whimpering, but that time I had heard one pained wail that was cut off as soon as it had begun.

Unlike last time, I easily figured out what it had been from and climbed out of my bed to investigate. I checked your mother's room first but found it quiet and locked. Also unlike that one night, the sound wasn't continuous; it had been a sharp lamenting moan. So I didn't have anything to listen for to point me in the right direction.

You were trying so hard not to let me hear your blubbering, weren't you?

I decided the best possible place to look would be your room, so I left my spot at your mother's door and crept my way farther into the house. You're probably wondering why I was even looking in the first place. I mean, I knew it was you feeling sorry for yourself. So why? Maybe it was because of fascination.

If you really want to know, then understand that before my sister had been killed, all I saw of you was in battle. I only saw your frown, your scowl, your hate. It's like the thought of you smiling; what would you look like with tears streaming down your face? How could you, a stubborn warrior, be reduced to crying? I had to see it with my eyes, just like I had to see you smiling to truly believe that picture. Plus, it would fascinate me to see your expression with such sadness. Were you really as cold as you acted to be?

That one night, there had been no tears. There had been just sobbing. So I secretly wished for tears that time. That wail had been too pain-wracked for there _not_ to be tears. 

I arrived at your door and placed a hand on the knob. With my curiosity and fascination leading me on, I turned it.

I spat a curse and slapped myself on the forehead, then sighed and trekked back to my room.

... the damn thing had been locked.

******

_ The man takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his dark hair. He glances up at the night sky to see several white specs of snow beginning to fall. His eyes do not waver; he does not flinch. A snowflake lands on his face, but he does not feel it._

******

The next day, you were quiet. Not the type of quiet where you ignored me and nothing more-- I mean the type of quiet where you wouldn't have talked to your friends even if they were still alive. It bugged me to a certain point because I didn't know what the quick change in your attitude was about, all because of your door having a stupid lock. Of course you would lock it if you didn't want me barging in. You learned that from the last time.

Once again, I figured out a theory. You probably had come to some sort of realization, one that you didn't care to realize. You didn't quite understand why you hadn't killed me when you did my sister (even though you hated me as much as one could hate), or why you hadn't killed me when I had caught you in your mother's room, or any of those other times I annoyed you. I also wondered why you hadn't destroyed the radio yet whenever you scowled at me for singing, but that's not the point.

I was used to your frown and narrowed eyes and blue orbs that held all of your emotions. And then suddenly, you changed on me. It wasn't an obvious change, but since I watched you for most of the time, I noticed it. Your eyes were a tad sadder and the way you walked was a bit slower. If I was lucky enough to be able to look at your face without you turning away a few seconds later, then I could tell that the shame you carried had grown some.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't pity or feel bad for you. Those were just a few things I had observed.

I was even more curious to see what you looked like when you broke down. I would be happy to see tears streaking down your face as you crumbled before me. And then I would wipe them away with a smirk. The smirk would explain to you my thoughts. "Even though you may be able to beat me in a battle," it would say, "I'm still stronger than you."

I wondered what I would do if I saw you smiling instead. That would be the event of the century. But my chances of seeing you crying were much larger, so I didn't bother much. Actually, I would probably just stare. How was I supposed to react to your happiness? I had never caused anyone's happiness except my own, so I wouldn't know what to do. Then again, I rest my case. I thought I would never cause you to grin so I didn't have to worry about it.

Time to complain. Do you know how much I detested that wristband? It was tight, it was cold, it restrained me from escaping, and most of all, I _hate being controlled_. Always have, always will. Why do you think I rid the world of Doctor Gero? Besides the fact that he was butt ugly. Anyway, yeah. He had the gall to think that he could control me with a push of a button. He thought that, just because he created me, he owned me. I showed him otherwise.

Am I getting off the topic again? Is that a record for me? Thought so. But it's not like I'm pressed for time or anything. I can ramble on as much as I please.

Like I was saying, you seemed quieter. I cursed door locks more than I ever had before, but I didn't need to. You see, I soon found out some interesting information that proved my theories about you.

It was in the eve, but not quite night. The sun was just about to set and it cast a violent crimson through the windows. It almost reminded me of dripping blood, as if the room was wounded. I would think that, wouldn't I? Well, you had just finished inhaling your dinner and was rattling around in the kitchen, most likely cleaning things up. I was in the living room, next to the kitchen, and once again listening to the radio. The stupid talking guy was going on about how people were rebuilding and how everyone was so cheerful that the androids had vanished.

Vanished, my ass. My sister had been killed and I was basically a prisoner. Get to the music. It was really getting on my nerves to hear people talk about me like that, even though I guess I deserved it back then. I could squash them like bugs as soon as I freed myself and yet they ignorantly dance around at my disappearance. They shouldn't have been so laid back just because I hadn't shown myself for several days.

Finally the music was being played. It was a loud rock type, the type I liked. I snickered and turned it up, standing from my chair in the process. I knew that song; they tended to play it a lot. So I used my "beautiful" voice to sing along. I honestly didn't think I sounded all that bad, but I knew I wasn't a star or anything. You just didn't care to hear my voice, and that time had been one too many.

"Turn it off," you said as you walked in, drying your hands on a towel. I stopped in my serenade to glance at you. Wow. You were talking to me again.

"I like this song," I retorted. 

Your frown got deeper and you hung the towel over the armrest of a chair next to you. "Then shut up and listen to it. Your singing gets annoying."

I crossed my arms and gave a hurt look. "You never said anything before."

"I tolerated it because it kept you from talking to me," you replied defensively, not moving from your place. You didn't want to stand near me. It made you uncomfortable.

"Then why did _you _start talking to _me_?" I asked plainly. I didn't really care about the answer. I was just messing with your head.

You scowled once more, lines creasing your brow. "Because it just got to me too much tonight, all right?"

I simply shrugged and clicked the radio off. It was much more interesting talking to you anyway. "All right."

You snorted and turned to leave. But I didn't want to let you go so easily. I had turned off one form of entertainment; I wanted to move onto another.

"What? No thank you?" I said lightly, grinning. "I know it irritated you when I sarcastically said that I was amazed you thanked an _android_ for returning your picture, but really, Trunks. Don't let that stop you. It's the polite thing to do." I paused to study you as you stopped in your tracks but didn't turn around. I added something that I knew would make you, "Didn't your mother raise you better?"

You did precisely what I thought you would-- spun around with a dangerous glint in your eyes and a shaking fist. "Don't even talk about her!"

My grin grew. "Now that I think about it, you never even thanked me for telling you where your mother's corpse probably was. How else would you have buried her before she was so decayed that she would fall to pieces when you picked her up? Without me, you wouldn't have found her in time. Don't I--"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed, eyes wide and trembling, palm raised at me and glowing with ki. Your enraged voice echoed throughout the house and the sunset bathed you in those angry red rays, tinting your long hair the same hue. "Shut up or I swear to God, I'll kill you right here and now!"

Did I ever tell you that, unlike many others, you looked enticing in your rage? I hadn't acknowledged it at the time, but when you got angry, you had a hint of pain to it that I could practically feel. Forget the expression of annoyance, anger was your best. You were a fire that dimmed the sunset. It was so clear and so pure of a hatred that I almost felt drunk just looking at you. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

I walked closer to you, taking silent steps. I stopped right in front of your powered hand, not caring if my clothes were singed. They had been a taken shirt and jeans set from you anyway. I stood there, gazing straight at your eyes, so close but still too far. I wanted to be in your face so your eyes couldn't hide a _thing_ from me. I wanted to miss not a waver of pain or a glimmer of anger. I wanted to show you that I _was_ stronger than you, even if you killed me.

"Tell me what you think of me," I said quietly with an emotionless face. You seemed surprised and your hand powered down as you lowered it.

"I hate you," you said flatly. I took a step forward. "I hate your smile." Another step. "I hate your eyes." Another. "I hate your voice." And another, until you had backed yourself against a wall to get away from me. I leaned in and put my hands on either side of you without making physical contact.

"More," I demanded lowly. Your eyes were staring dead into mine. It was so exhilarating. I hadn't played with anyone like that since you had trapped me in your house, and it reminded me how much I loved mind games. I was so close that I could almost feel you shaking and feel your unsteady breath on my skin. I felt high on power. I had power over you just then. "More."

"I hate how you move like you own the world!" you yelled, not wincing from me but still your voice broke a little. "I hate how you're so lazy and how you don't care about anything! I hate how you so casually disregard human life! I hate how you enjoy others' pain and how you're so arrogant and how you think you know everything and how... how you..." you trailed off, breath hitching and voice strained. 

I intently watched as you swallowed nervously and closed your eyes, trying to pretend I wasn't there. I knew you felt that way about both my sister and me and you probably had waited so long to just explode. It wasn't enough to just kill us. You wanted to make it clear just how much you hated us, but you couldn't let go of your dignity and pride to do so... until then.

"I hate you..." you repeated, wobbling a little with your head bowed, hair hiding your face. It was dark now. Only the kitchen light was on and the shadows danced across you. For once, I wasn't paying attention to them. They paled in comparison to you. "I... hate..."

I smirked. You had given in. I was stronger, despite whatever power levels read. The only thing that was missing was the tears.

"You forgot one," I said, reaching a hand to tip your chin up. You needed to look at me and see my smirk. "You realized why you haven't killed me yet. Last night, it made you snap. The reason why you didn't kill me after you killed my sister, what made you hesitate when you looked at me. Say it. I want you to say it out loud."

You numbly shook your head, probably exhausted and drained from so much emotion coursing through you at one time. I gripped your chin tighter and your dark blue eyes slitted open, tiredly gazing at me.

"I hate..." you began slowly but became silent. I sighed and used my other hand to flick away your long lavender bangs. We stayed there for a good while, not an inched moved or a word spoken.

If you weren't going to say it, then I would.

"You hate me because," I whispered, "I'm all you have left."

**~end of chapter three~**


	4. of freedom and red clouds

Author's Notes: ... Um, if I hugged all of you reviewers right now... would you guys be freaked out? ^_^ Well, to be safe, I'll instead just say my thanks. XP SO...

Thanks to my good friend, HaloGatomon, and to Evil Neko, MoriMori_EYE (interesting name!), Sumsum, and the others who reviewed! I would like to give a special thanks to Yami Kaosu and Raidne the Silent Siren!! You two, your Juunana/Trunks fics absolutely ROCK!! You keep the faith alive! It means much-o to me that you like my humble fanfic. ^~ To Rez: you reviewed another fanfic of mine, stating that you were sorry for the random bout of temporary sugar-induced insanity on the review for chapter three. However, I don't see WHY you would be sorry. ^_^ The review simply flattered me much and I'm glad you liked it a lot.

To Rap's, my good friend for years now, for reading this before everyone else and helping me out. To newtypeshadow, for just being the really damn cool gal and inspiring me to write this! 

Thanks, again, to all of you. ^_^

I'm sure you're sick of hearing from me, but I gotta say my thoughts on this chapter... In my opinion, it's uneventful... *sigh* I mostly wanted to explore-- well, whatever. I won't spoil! And my sincere apologies: I'm afraid I might have gotten Juunana a tad bit out of character... Oh, woe is me!!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter four~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

For the first time in a long while, your eyes held fear. They wavered and were wide, boring into mine as your mouth was parted wth shallow breathing. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to touch my fingers to your lips, so I could also feel the fear in your shaky breaths. No other emotion, not even hatred, had been so obviously written on your face before. Do you know how badly I wanted to stay like that, smirking and looking at you, forever? I felt so in control again because I could hold you in your place with a few words, because I had _power_ over you again.

"I..." you said, then turned your face to the side, trying to get away.

I smirked more. "So alone, Trunks. After your mother died, you had absolutely nothing to hang on to. You hate it when it's too quiet and when no one is around, even more than you hate me. And after you killed my sister and turned to do the same to me, you realized... I'm the only one left in this world that you have any chance of clinging to. If you had killed me, there would be no one else who could truly understand you..." I murmured all of it into your ear, making sure the words burned themselves true into your head. "No one else, Trunks. Only me. Without me, you would be alone, be nothing. That's why you hate me. Because you _need_ me. Because of your _own_ weakness..."

You were shaking. I moved my hands from the wall to grip your bare (the jacket sleeves had been ripped off a few days ago) shoulders, feeling you tremble under my touch. I also felt you shiver slightly. Were my hands all that cold? They couldn't have been as cold as some of the glares we've exchanged, but yet only then did you shiver. I gripped tighter, silently trying to will you into looking at me.

"You've lost, Trunks," I said lowly. "I've won."

"No," you choked out, almost desperately. How much did the shame inside you curl around your heart and squeeze the blood out? Your fear of having to depend on someone you hated to keep you sane? Only having the voice you loathed to hear to chase the looming silence away? You tried to hold back, but you were screaming inside because it was so quiet. Didn't you see that you were always the one to make a motion to start a conversation with me, no matter how much venom it had? After the night I caught you sobbing, you always came to me. I never went to you.

I didn't say any more. I wanted you to realize that you couldn't go on without my voice, that the silence would drive you insane.

"Get out..."

I leaned back abruptly. I narrowed my icy eyes and gazed at you, wondering how you could _dare_ to say such a thing when you knew I spoke the truth. Ah, did you want to try and prove me wrong? Did you hate me that much to risk submitting yourself to isolation? You could meet other people, but would they truly understand you? Were you willing to live in a lifeless house... all to prove me wrong?

"Get out!" you shouted, suddenly shoving me away. "Don't you get it!? I hate you!" Your breathing was fast, still shaking, and your expression was a mix of anger and fear. I would have almost called it beautiful. "I don't need you! What the hell are you thinking!? You don't know anything! You know _nothing_!"

All the while you yelled at me, I stood a foot or so away with my hands in my pockets and a smirk upon my mouth. I didn't interrupt you; I just watched. Like the haunting ghost you didn't have to take care of. One hand you slashed through the air at me while the other clenched and unclenched, sometimes holding your head but usually a fist in front of you.

"Do you hear me!?" you continued, your voice beginning to get scratchy. "I never want to see your face again! I don't want to hear about you killing any more people! I want you to stay away from everyone, from _me_! I want you to disappear from my life! I HATE YOU!"

At that, you snatched my wrist and tapped your fingers a certain way on the metal band around it. There was a short beeping and it simply unlatched and fell to your hand. I didn't get to quite see how you got it off because you turned around and angrily tossed it against the wall, making it dent in and disfiguring part of the band. After all, that thing was the reason your mother went out to celebrate. In a way, it had gotten her killed.

"Out!" you screamed, pointing in the direction the door was. "Don't come back and don't go near any other people or I _will_ kill you! GET OUT!"

I would have rejoiced at the wristband being gone, but I was focusing everything on you. I stood in my place like a rock, not smirking anymore. There was a gleam in your eyes that told me you really would kill me if I was to disobey you. You looked a little uncertain of what you were doing, but you wanted oh-so badly to prove me wrong. I didn't know you would take it as far as to actually kill me, but I guess hatred is a strong enough emotion.

"All right," I said. "I'll go."

"Now," you added on quickly, seemingly calmed enough not to raise your voice. "Go now."

I shrugged and walked past you, stopping at your side to give you a glance. I let you see one last smirk so you would know that I had still won. You stared back at me with a once more masked expression, and this time, your eyes didn't show me a thing.

"Now," you repeated quietly, the darkness of the room covering us both.

I shrugged again and reached up my hand to brush it through your hair as I walked away. I've always liked your hair and I liked it even more when you grew it out. It suited you that way. You stiffened from the contact but did no more and I casually waved without looking back at you. My footsteps were ominously loud and I found myself at the door sooner than I had thought. You didn't follow me. 

Shouldn't I have been happy to be finally free? That I was getting away? I was... I was. No one controlled me. I had no ties there. Not to that house or you. I didn't care if you would completely shut down. I would only regret not being able to see it.

I opened the door and paused, listening for a moment if you would say more or stop me from going. I thought you would because you were weak...

Nothing happened. I closed the door behind myself and floated into the air.

... you really did hate me.

******

_ The snow is falling harder now, blanketing the scenery with pure white. The man lowers his head with dead eyes and does not bother to protect himself from the weather. A gentle breeze shifts the snow slightly and makes the bare trees around him rustle. He sighs._

******

Freedom. That word and state of being is so double-sided. I pondered that while flying over a town that the humans were rebuilding. I would have stopped and scoffed and laughed at them then blow their stupid town up, but for some reason I wanted to get away from you quickly. So despite my disgust at seeing those humans pretending that they were free of the androids, I kept flying on.

I passed town after town, some being rebuilt, most still in complete ruins. The ruins I smiled at for it reminded me of how great I was compared to the humans, how utterly helpless they were against me. The rebuilding ones I deeply frowned at. They, those humans, thought they were free. Ignorantly thought that there were no androids left, while one was flying over right them. Little did they know that they were still in captivity, because I was alive and could kill them whenever I wished to. It made me frown. Humans are so stupid.

But yet I didn't throw any ki down at them. You were still too close, and you would learn of it in a matter of a few days then come hunting for me. I admitted I wasn't physically strong enough to defeat you (and I thoroughly disliked it) so I didn't want to risk it so soon. I first had to find a way to become stronger and _then_ I would begin my reign again.

My sister had called it, "playing it safe." It made me impatient. It wasn't like me to "play it safe." Then again, I had never come up against anyone more powerful, so how did I know how I was supposed to be like?

I didn't really have to think while my sister had been alive. I was the rash, reckless one that believed he could win anything. Sis was the one that was more sensible and careful; then again, she also didn't love destroying things as much as I did. But still, she had to snap at me to get my head out of the "red clouds" from time to time. "Red clouds" was something that popped out of her mouth one day, something about me getting caught up in the sight of blood or whatever. She got weird sometimes.

Yeah... you could say she kept me in line. Heh, good ol' Juuhachi.

A smile crept on my face as I turned my head to the right, preparing to say that I was just thinking about how weird she was-- but then I remembered.

She was dead.

She always flew at my right side. It was a type of habit in formation we had picked up. She had gotten use to turning her head to the left while flying to talk to me, and I had gotten use to turning to the right. So we had kept it that way. But at that moment, when I had looked over at nothing, it finally began to sink into my brain.

She was dead.

I had known before that she was, but I hadn't truly understood it. My thoughts had been so occupied with escape and you, that I hadn't really sat down and considered it. She was gone, blown to dust, right in front of my eyes. The look of utter surprise on her face as you raised your hand to deliver the final blow-- I wonder what she was thinking? "This can't be!" "How did Trunks become so strong!?" "I can't die!" "I won't be able to go shopping again!"

I chuckled at the last one. I trained my eyes ahead of myself and kept flying, the wind's hands tugging back at everything.

Or maybe she had been thinking about how mad she was at me. She had had a bad day, mostly because I had pulled a prank on her by hiding all of her clothes. It was funny to see her mad.

But I hadn't known she was going to die.

I wouldn't ever talk to or see her again, unless I died myself. Then we might be able to meet in hell, but I wasn't that willing to die. The thought that she wasn't around-- that was all I had known. Everywhere I had gone, she was nearby. To be with and then suddenly without... that's a hard slap of reality.

If I was to reign again, then I would have to reign alone. I would have to destroy cities and kill humans and laugh at them, alone. Somehow, that didn't seem as much fun as it used to be. The concept was alien and foreign, not having her around. She had always just... been there.

I suddenly wished I could see one of her red clouds.

I landed on a rocky ledge of a cliff. I looked before myself to see the familiar carved-out cave. My sister and I had smoothed the walls and floor with ki, but considered the stalactites on the ceiling a nice decoration. The area over our sleeping quarters was stalactite-free, because the dripping water from them was quick to be annoying.

I walked into the cold cave, not really feeling the change in temperature much. I could, but didn't wish to be bothered by it. So even though it chilled me, I gave it no second thought.

I placed my hand on the wall, pleased to see that everything was the same as I had left it. The messily made (also stolen) bed was mine, and the bed with securely tucked in covers and many pillows neatly situated was Juuhachi's. She was something of a neat freak when it came to stuff that was hers. She didn't care what I did with my side of the room-- cave, whatever.

I moved over to my bed and plopped down onto it, hearing the creaky springs squeak. I had wanted to steal a new bed for a while, but it always slipped my mind when I was out having... fun. Plus, you usually came to distract me with your declarations of victory and I would fight you with my sister, then we would fly away, leaving you bloodied. I usually remembered about my bed after I fought you, but it wasn't _cool_ to go bed-shopping after you beat someone within an inch of their life.

I murmured a curse into my single pillow as opposed to my sister's many. I didn't require much. She preferred more comfort. Hm... is it me, or was I really thinking about her a lot? I guess that's a lopsided question. I was the only one thinking about her like that, so of course it was just me.

The grimy feeling on my head reminded me that I needed to wash my hair, which I hadn't for two days. I grimaced at the sensation and stood from my bed, then flew out of the dark cave. Praying that the clear river was still clear, I aimed my sights on the said water supply and landed next to it. It wasn't that far from the cave and far enough from any town so I wouldn't be disturbed.

I groaned when I remembered that I forgot (play on words; that's like me to do that, huh?) to take the stolen shampoo, conditioner, and soap with me. I had grown use to the items just _being_ there whenever I entered the bathroom in your house. And now, I didn't have them with me.

To be with, then suddenly without. Sis would kill me if she knew I was comparing her to bath products.

I instead did a quick rinse to get rid of the grimy feeling and then found myself sitting on my bed again. Not just sitting; I was _staring_. I was completely oblivious to how my clothes were slightly damp (wait, they were your clothes, weren't they?) and how my wet hair clung to my face and dripped onto my shoulders like the stalactites above me. My ice blue eyes were unblinking and locked on the far wall, right above my sister's bed.

She was dead. Before it had been a sort of numb realization, a time to know that things were going to be different. I reminisced back on memories of her and almost-- I repeat, almost-- longed for her presence. Maybe I even... I don't know-- missed her a little.

But as I sat in my place, eyes locked on the wall, my body silently seething with gritted teeth, I connected two things together. Once again, my mind had been too crowded before and I had usually been too occupied with you to truly grasp my situation.

One: I was free. But then again, I wasn't. Yes, I was out of your house and on my own without that blasted wristband, but I was still in your shadow. I couldn't go out and have fun; you would kill me. I couldn't fight you; you would kill me. I couldn't show my face; you would kill me. I wasn't allowed to do very much at all. What type of freedom was that?

As I had said before, freedom is so double-sided.

Two was very simple. Along with my so-called freedom, my sister was dead.

You had killed her.

I wanted revenge.

** ~end of chapter four~**


	5. of trains and squeaky beds

Author's Notes: Okay, you guys... kneel down... and PRAY... that you never get as nit-picky as me and have to rewrite things constantly. ^_^ But I suppose that's a good thing because, in the end, the story/chapter turns out better than it would have at first. I guess. I dunno. Anyway, this is an... I'm-not-entirely-pleased-with chapter. But damn it, Juunana's so hard to work with! Blast that boy! ... I love him. But even if his dark humor from time to time is refreshing, he's so... so... STUBBORN TO ACCEPT THE FACT THAT HE WANTS TO MAKE OUT WITH TRUNKS! ^_^ Well... I wish. *sigh* Takes a while to manipulate characters to your will.

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter five~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

Minutes. Hours. Days. What's the difference? What point is there? Why do we slowly count as time ticks by, or not even notice it pass us when we're preoccupied? Why do we measure how many years it will be until we die? Does it give us meaning to our lives by limiting it? 

But what if we can't die? There would be no reason to count the seconds because it would be endless, forever. There would be no limit and whatever we need or want to do could always be put off until the next sunrise. There would be too much time then, and counting it would only prolong our suffering.

So if you _can_ die, and you wish to count the seconds so you can make it all have significance... is that the meaning? Or would it only prolong our suffering?

Hm, there I go again. Mind wandering to something completely off-topic... but it doesn't matter. I don't think it ever did.

Let's continue on.

Caves are generally dark, damp and cold, which pretty much sums up how my cave was. In all the years I spent there, I hardly saw or felt any change. Maybe there were little eroded-away indents in the ground from the interminable dripping water of stalactites, but otherwise, not really. Either that was true, or I was ignoring my surroundings again and staring. I'm sure it was the latter.

You would think I would have been alert of every little noise around me, every chirp of a bird or rustle of leaves. Well, I wasn't. My senses were in tune to just my mind. I don't think I even truly saw the wall across from me, despite my eyes locked on it. All I could do was sit, and think. Sit, and think. And think. Then think some more. That much thinking isn't good for anyone.

Words and fragments flew by on the train of thought I was hitching a ride on. It wasn't a type of train with a pleasant scenery and smooth track; it was more like the wind burned my face because it was speeding and I had no cover and no operator to guide the vessel. It was out of control and hot with anger.

You. Trunks. Sister. Killed. Revenge. Those were the words accompanying me. Somewhere underneath them was an overwhelming sense of boredom. Like I said before, I couldn't go out and terrorize the civilians (hmm... memories) because you would undoubtably stand in my way. Besides, my sister was gone, so who would I play the game with? There was no point in tallying up my kills if I had no competition. It just didn't seem as fun anymore, even though humans disgusted me. But the fact was still there: you would stand in my way if I tried.

I didn't hate you before. It was more like you were a toy to amuse me, to bat around a few times and pick up later. But something curled around my insides (was that what your shame felt like?) and constricted like a snake. It was strange; I wasn't use to any real type of emotion besides a sadistic glee. First you made me feel odd by killing my sister, and then the snake came. My mind calculated: I was beginning to hate you for it all. You took away my sister, and made me bored. You took away my freedom, and made me feel.

You. Revenge. Cave. Dark. Cold.

The train sped up. I was trying to hang on...

I needed to get out of there.

... it derailed.

******

_ He is chuckling softly, the snow piling around him as he brushes it off his shoulders and head. He seems humored for a moment, but then the low snickering stops. He is once again dreadfully still, quiet, and calm. He, once again, does not acknowledge the snow, or at least tries not to._

******

I faintly remember lifting into the sky, my body vertical, and flying backwards as a final farewell to what had been my home for years. Although I couldn't call it that any more, like you couldn't with your house because of your mother being dead. I winced at the similarity then dismissed it with a shrug. Mockingly saluting the cave and my squeaky bed, I turned around and sped off.

I wondered what my destination was. I didn't really have one in mind; I just knew I needed to leave. There were too many memories in there of my sister, and memories make me think, and too much thinking isn't good for anyone. It never is... unless you think of a way to taunt your foe, which could be called an art to me.

In any case, I went through the possible solutions in my head. I would have hid out in some city and practiced my fighting skills, but that would have tempted me to kill one of those vile humans too much. I would have built a cabin in the country, but I needed shelter right away. Perhaps I could have stayed in the cave while I built it, but I didn't want to consider that.

I was running out of places. There _was_ one left, nagging at the back of my head, but I kept pushing it back. I refused to return so soon, not when I had that snake squeezing me from the inside. I hadn't figured out how to extract my revenge yet; I wasn't even strong enough to defend myself. But I couldn't think of anywhere else.

Yeah, I could be stubborn and go off to build a cabin and be utterly uncomfortable for a few days, or I could hide away in an abandoned building and silently glare at each passing human... or I could smirk, eat your food, sing to your radio, irritate you with my taunts, and mess around in your room until you strangled me. That almost sounded pleasant compared to my former two choices. At least I would have a roof, a refrigerator, shampoo, and a toy. Maybe a brilliant idea of revenge would strike me as I watched you.

Then again, there was that lingering presence of words. "I'll kill you!" can make a person stay away for a while. "This really sucks," is a comical way to state my musings from then, and it's also very accurate.

In the end, I found my body turned in a direction I never thought I would go again. Soon enough I saw the familiar, dome-shaped house with the worn letters plastered on the side. I also took into consideration that it was night. It had been at sunset when I left, so I had either been gone for a few hours or a few days. By the way I found you, it was a few days.

I landed quietly on the dry grass, expecting to see you mulling around in your house, perhaps devouring food or hopefully something edible. But the moonlight betrayed my metal image and revealed a form curled up on his side and on the ground, right at my feet. I looked down and took a step back, mouth agape at my find.

Your hands were childishly lying around your face as you had your knees to your chest. Lavender fell across the sharp angles of your features, which were relaxed in a slumber, and your mouth was parted a tiny bit as you subconsciously breathed. You seemed to be shivering. I guessed you were in a fetal position simply because the night air chilled you. But that was only a guess.

I pressed my lips together, praying that you hadn't been stirred from sleep by my not-so graceful landing: flew down, snorted, plopped. Thankfully you didn't budge, so I took the liberty to collect information as to why you were there in the first place. Carefully peering over you since your back was to me (I didn't want to crunch the grass around us with footsteps or even risk the slight possibility of triggering your senses by floating), I observed your face more closely. Never failing to notice the blatant fact that your skin was tanner than before you had murdered Juuhachi, I peered through the dim light of stars to see a hint of glistening water on your cheeks.

And so, the dam had finally broken.

You hadn't woken up yet, and I didn't wish to do that for you in fear of a grumpy demi-Saiyan. I did a little camp-out without supplies and just lied on the grass, hands behind my head, and stared up. The sun had yet to rise, so I doubt it had been a long passage of time. I was wise enough to give you space in case you spontaneously rolled over, but still you didn't move. I mean, I flop all around when I sleep. Still, it was close enough to see the seams in your jacket.

I had grown tired of your back and ever-so stupidly (after all, I had tried to avoid it earlier) floated my way around you so I could lay myself there and be able to see your face. Remember: bored Juunana equals crazy and suicidal Juunana. Thankfully once again, no mishap occurred and I was allowed to lounge. Then I turned my head to the right, as I was use to doing to talk to Juuhachi, to see you sleeping. As I did just that, the snake tightened its hold on me, and I was reminded.

You. Sister. Killed. Revenge.

Your sad and innocent expression was deceiving, as if you had never hurt anyone. Well, you did. And you were completely, totally, and utterly off-guard. Everything clicked. That was why I was there, wasn't it? To get revenge? I had a chance right then, to simply shoot a ki blast straight through your heart and walk away. I had a chance...

I raised my hand to strike, having sat up, and then paused. There was a stiff piece of paper protectively held in the cup of your hands I hadn't seen before. But I got a better look at it, and everything that had clicked slid out of place.

It was the photo of Gohan, your mother, and you smiling. I hadn't seen your smile yet. Even after your tears dried, there was still something I could get from you. Wouldn't it be a shame if I had wasted such an interesting creature such as you when there was still something to be gained? My curiosity took control again, and I wondered. Everything else blanked out.

What would you look like if you smiled?

I stood up, ambition dulled. I could still get revenge later, after I quenched my undying curiosity. Besides, if I had kept it, it would have surely killed me. I was like that, stupid decisions and all. I never told you though, how close you had been to death that night. It would have been so easy.

I briskly walked to your house, suddenly too distracted by my mind to care about any noise I was making. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, went inside, and shut it. Maybe you would wake and find a nice androidish surprise in your living room, singing along to the radio. But I didn't feel like doing that, so I breezed past the said room and simply glanced at it.

The metal wristband still lied in the same place you had thrown it to, with a little dent in its circle. I smirked, remembering the adrenaline rush I had had earlier. It had been so exhilarating, and your eyes... I wanted to see them like that again. Sometime. I sighed and went to my assigned room, deciding to retire for a bit. Like the band, it was still the same way. Apparently you didn't want to touch either one.

Pause. Rewind.

_ "I hate you!"_

Chug-a chug chug, went the train of thought.

A cruel smile slithered onto my face. I was, right then, glad I hadn't killed you a few minutes before, because I had a better idea that would profit me more than a simple murder. It was a type of revenge that would last for months, unlike the seconds of splattering your blood. It bugged me that I hadn't thought of it earlier, especially when I had been doing it all along.

I would just stay there and do as I pleased and my presence, like it had before, would grate on your sanity. And I would grin and wave and go on my way, snickering to myself as I saw your fists shaking with anger. And I would sing and catch you cursing yourself out of the corner of my eye. Seeing you in those states was more of a fulfilling revenge than bloodshed would be.

Besides, if you died, who would I talk to? Who would I taunt? Those humans were too weak; they disgusted me. But you, o' beautifully hateful one, would stand as tall as you could in front of me and battle back with words until you once again snapped, and I would be able to see that lost look in your eyes again. And, once again, I would be able to say, "I've won."

I realized I loved that tension and cure for boredom too much to let it slide. It was simply too entertaining, and during it all, I would be hurting you slowly, very slowly, very painfully. Now the mind battle was not just a game, but a real competition. I had a purpose. Maybe you would kill me. Maybe not. I was grinning too much to care about trivial things like that. I had a house and food, a toy and prey, and I had revenge. I was content to be there, to not be bored.

I think my sister would have been happy for me. I guess. She probably wanted me to die so she wouldn't be alone in hell. I heard they had no shopping centers down there.

So, my mind made up (and still slightly frustrated I had to go through the trouble of leaving just to sort my deranged self out), I yawned and stretched. Time to recharge.

When I lied down, I faintly noted that the bed didn't squeak.

** ~end of chapter five~**


	6. of laundry and farewells

Author's Notes: Lessee here... Um... this is another boring chapter? ^_^ Uh... have fun? ^_^ I dunno. ;; On a more serious note, thanks to all who has stuck by my side and kept reviewing. You're all marvelous! Also, just so you know, I thought this one scene down THERE *points at chappy* was amusing to write. I sniggered. Yes, I did. And to all of you who have been waiting for some shounen-ai moments, fear not. This chapter finally sets up everything, and the next chapter or the one after that will have what you've all been waiting for. And hopefully, I'll still have them in character by then. ^_~ Enjoy!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter six~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

As soon as I woke up, I began to reconsider my choice of staying. For you see, the reason why I woke up in the first place (not to mention it was around the crack of dawn), was the sudden lack of oxygen. It took me a few seconds to adjust my sleepy eyes to the dim sunlight and then register that there was a body straddling me, currently trying to crush my throat.

I gasped a little, not succeeding to suck in any air, then curled my hands around your arms to try to push you away. "Good morning... to you, too," I managed to say sarcastically.

You didn't acknowledge my remark but still loosened your grip a bit. Your hair fell over your shoulders and was wildly covering your face, rustled from sleeping outside. I heard a growl emit from you lowly as you spoke with a slow, demanding tone, "Why did you come back?"

I chuckled, my throat vibrating against your cold hands. "I had no other place to go," I said.

"Then where did you disappear to for several days?" you growled, leaning forward a little so to put more weight on me. You probably didn't want the chance of me throwing you off.

I smirked and blew out some air to move the hair that was covering my face-- both my _and_ yours. I felt your hands tighten and I was feeling a little light-headed again. "Nowhere."

I saw your feral snarl. "Don't play games with me, android," you stated calmly, but still with an edge. "I told you clearly that I would kill you if you came back here!"

Naturally, at that moment, I was cursing myself for being over-confident and falling asleep without any safety guards. But thankfully, I had a sharp mind and a smart mouth to match. "Would you... mind backing off? I need air."

"Damn you!" you shouted, your nails digging into the sides of my neck, my hands still holding your arms but without effort to push you away. "Why won't you take me seriously!? You know I can kill you!" As if to further prove yourself, you powered up a small amount of energy right under your hands, causing it to slightly burn my skin.

"I know," I replied coolly, truthfully. A flash of white streaked across my vision when you pressed down on your hands again. I took a moment to recover, sucking in a small amount of air to speak. You noticed this and once again loosened your grip, probably amused by an android's last words. So I smiled, despite my situation, and said, "Yeah, just like Juuhachi. Gonna blast me to nothing, Trunks?"

A snort. "She deserved it, and so do you."

I think that was when I accepted the obvious fact of how similar we were, how sickeningly alike. Because, you see, I had spoken something along the same lines to a young man right after I had killed his supposed lover. And that fact I would not keep a secret, because it could very well save my life, which it did.

"We could be twins," I said, chuckling. "I'm surprised Juuhachi was my twin and not you."

There was a pause in your breathing as if surprised, then you regained your earlier demeanor. "Are you saying that we're alike!? I have nothing in common with an android!"

How strange. I had considered myself like that with humans.

"Come now, Trunks." I sneered, lip curling up to the side. "Look at us. We both let our hate drive us, make us want to kill. I against humans, and you against androids. We're the two best fighters in this world, and now, we're alone, with each other. It makes me sick to think so, but it's true..." I turned my head to the side, glancing my eyes at you to get a better view from the morning light. "And how can you kill your own twin? You're such a cold-blooded murderer."

"Me!?" you shouted harshly and I felt the burning on my neck increase. "You're the one that slaughtered countless people! You and your sister took everything away from me!"

"And you took everything away from _me_. It's a fair trade... don't you think?"

"You already _had_ nothing! No feelings except bloodlust!"

"Probably why I have no other place to go."

"You...!" you stuttered, trying to think of a retort and failing. 

The argument heated my blood. I felt good to use my wits again, but strangely most of what I said was the truth. I never knew it could be such a lethal weapon, both on you and me. Your mother was dead. My sister was dead. We burned together in our hate and wanted other beings to perish. Such a cruel world, to have it come to this.

Through the mist around my brain, I felt your hands leaving my neck but you did not get off of me. You remained on my stomach, pinning me from the waist down, and appeared numb. But still your eyes were dark blue and held your emotions, all of your beautiful emotions to play with, all of your shame and hatred and sadness, but yet no trace of a smile. Something told me I would be waiting for that for a while. My curiosity was not pleased, but it could be patient. Other things were more important, like revenge.

Or had I already achieved it? When you stopped choking me and looked at the ceiling as if searching for answers, had I obtained revenge? Had you given up on me so easily, when you realized that you were acting like an android in your deed of murdering Juuhachi? Seek and destroy. You had almost been machine-like.

I wish I could have read your mind. It would have been entertaining.

My eyes glazed over with processing thoughts. I looked out my window from where I lay. After all, the truth had been a weapon on me too, and I was wounded. So there we were alone, two twins with different blood, alone together. I would have laughed at the irony if my throat hadn't been sore.

... that was the first time I ever bothered to watch the sunrise.

******

_ The breeze picks up and blows the snow haphazardly across the wet ground and bends the branches of naked trees. His hair is tossed around as if possessed, and he subconsciously shivers. Pale hands reach up to opposite sides and pull together the open ends of a dark blue jacket, trying to contain whatever warmth he has left. He finally realizes how cold the day is._

******

I probably should say something like, "I was surprised when you left my room without an insult or violent gesture," but my notion when you left was more along the lines of a monotonous, "Oh. There he goes." Lest to say, I did waste a good few seconds staring at the door you had slammed shut to make sure you didn't rampage back in all berserk-like. But that was only because I wanted to change into some clean garments.

After several minutes, I emerged from my domain in another pair of your clothes I had "borrowed"-- some blue jeans and a black turtleneck. I missed my old clothes though. If I recalled their location correctly, then I had thrown them onto the heap of your laundry to be washed. Most likely you had done a load since I left, so they should have been all folded with the rest.

When I arrived at the door of the tiny laundry room, I found to my dismay that my white sweater, black t-shirt, jeans, and orange bandanna were untouched in the pile, and most irritating of all, still dirty. I really missed my old clothes.

I all but stomped out. I could live in your clothes for a few days, but sooner or later, I always went back to my own. Your clothes smelled like... you. I didn't want to smell like a human. I didn't want to smell like... lilacs.

I paused, my dark eyebrows knitting together. I was in the middle of the hall and also in the middle of my search for you. But still I took a moment to pull the collar of the turtleneck to my nose and then took a nice whiff. What a strange discovery. You smelled like lilacs.

I spotted you sitting on the couch in the living room, the same room where you had previously kicked me out. Amused, I crossed my ankles and arms, leaned against the wall behind the couch, and waited for you to sense the lingering presence of an android. Soon enough you placed a hand on the back of the furniture, then twisted to face me with a scowl. I grinned, mostly pleased I was still alive and able to walk. You frowned, _not_ pleased for the same reason.

"Laundry," I simply said, pointing in that direction. I didn't want to say much; my throat was still a little sore.

Your frown increased. It was good to know that I was getting under your skin by just being me. "Don't order me around," you spat and stood briskly.

Yes. I missed these petty arguments with you. "Now," I pressed on.

You snorted at me indignantly and stalked away, eyes burning into mine as you passed. Of course you were furious of our earlier encounter and even more so because you knew I was right. The only real difference between us was that we handled our situation in separate ways. Mirror opposites, you could say.

You remained silent as you vanished around the corner, my eyes trailing after you as far as they could. I found it funny how far gone you were, to need someone around just to be able to function in daily life. I didn't even want to look at the dirty dishes. Then again, you probably hadn't eaten much. Well, now that I had returned, things should be getting back to normal.

Normal. Things should be getting back to normal.

I lazily dismissed the idea and plopped my rear onto the fluffy couch. This was certainly better than the cave. At the cave, everything was a blur and a buzz and I didn't notice much, but at your house, my eyes picked out all the cracks in the ceiling and walls, and how the light shadowed certain places. My ears picked up running water through underground pipes and how the house creaked and settled in on itself.

I felt alert, more so than I had while you were weaker, because I knew I had to be. I couldn't be as relaxed and laid back as I used to be, or at least not as much. You could lunge at any minute, so I had to be ready to parry with my fists and cutting words in order to stay in one piece, to taunt and laugh at you longer. I felt alert; I felt alive.

I smiled as I wiggled down into the couch's dark cushions, achieving maximum comfort. My ears quirked a little and it dawned upon me that something was missing to the scenario: my radio. I heaved myself up and reached over the arm of the appliance, feeling around for that little black knob on that little black box which sat on the side table. Soon enough, I grabbed the knob and clicked it on. The first thing that whispered (it was on low volume) through was this: "--return to 'Roses and Wine,' the first radio drama in eighteen years."

My eyebrow shot up. This wasn't my station, was it? I checked and for sure the numbers read correctly. There weren't many to begin with, I guess. A colorful four-lettered word later, I laid back to pout as I decided to listen to this "radio drama" or whatever it was. The other stations' music grinded my nerves anyway.

Some cheesy tune waved through the air, kind of soft and in the background, as a pair of voices spoke over it. One was a deep male's and the other definitely female. Whatever gender they were, they sounded corny and I wanted to throw up.

"Oh, Johnathan! I cannot believe this day has actually come!" the girl cried happily as the sound effect of ruffling clothes drifted to my ears.

"Julia," he said, trying to be sultry. I almost felt sorry for him; it just seemed like he was trying too hard. "You are so beautiful, you know that? I want to lavish in your beauty, bathe in the expanse of your skin, and run my hands forever through the silk of your hair..."

"John... a..." Julia breathed out a little moan and I clapped my hands over my eyes to try to dissolve the mental images that brought. I didn't understand this human... thing, but I had walked in on enough couples to know what a moan signalized. It was sort of disgusting. Gero hadn't taught me about my own anatomy. Why humans acted upon it, I didn't know. Maybe they lusted for touch like I did for blood, but that still didn't give them an excuse.

"Uhh... John... I..."

"Oh for the love of--" I cut myself off as I reached over to click it off. It wasn't loud enough for you to hear, but it would be _damn_ awkward if you strolled in right then. I was just about to rid myself of the torture, but then "Johnathan" spoke again.

"Julia..." he muttered. "You are mine, body and soul. This passion-- this possession-- I do not need anything else, only you. And you... are mine..."

That's about when I got sick of it and the radio faded out thanks to that handy little knob. I was just fine in the silence anyway. Human affairs like that-- I didn't care to know about them. That was _their_ habit and requirement in life, not an android's.

Soon I got bored of staring at the ceiling and pulled myself to my feet. My hands in my back pockets, I sauntered into the dim halls to find something to do, at least until that radio drama was over. I backtracked the path I took earlier, following the noise of the whirring of the laundry. I arrived at the open doorway and looked in to see your back facing me as you sorted out the clothes and placed some into the large white washer. When I noticed my orange bandanna flutter in (you seemed to toss it rather angrily), I nodded my head in approval and assumed my other clothes would be ready soon. Then I could get out of that turtleneck.

As I watched you, it occurred to me how our relationship had evolved over the course of the last few weeks, and how I expected it to remain as it was right when I stood there. It occurred to me that I thought about living with you as normal, like "normal" had been in my reign with my sister.

Isn't it funny how fast time can seem to go by? How quickly things change? How I considered having you around, normal? Had you so soon replaced Juuhachi? You and she may do different things, but normal was normal, so the result was the same. And then I wondered: was my revenge for my sister and her unfortunate demise? or for myself and the loss of my old life?

My eyes narrowed and I left you without a sound, then ventured into my room. I was thinking through things too much, maybe. I was there to extract a long-lasting revenge and entertain myself in the process. I was there because you had killed Juuhachi. I didn't want to believe that I was there because it was now my normal life.

Standing in front of my window, I gazed out. As I looked up, sun blazing across the sky, the light created the illusion of red clouds.

Farewell, sis.

** ~end of chapter six~**


	7. of bugs and change

Author's Notes: Well... heh. ^_^ This chapter is a bit longer than usual; I'm sure you all aren't complaining about that, unless you're in a hurry and can only read a little bit, in which you might be left at a cliffhanger and would have to wait until you could once again sit down and-- yeah. I ramble. Anyway, BWHAHA! I've been waiting the entire story to write this chapter! ^_^ I have to admit, in the ending scene, it's... I dunno. It's just different. Tell me how I did there, please, and if they're both still in-character for what I've already done to the poor bastards, yah? ^^;; As I wrote this, my SD Mirai Trunks and Juunanagou cowered in their respective closets. I think it might have been my cackling.

Thanks to anyone who's reviewed and put this story on their favorites lists!! @_@ Seriously, I wasn't expecting this to be all that popular, and while it's still not as big as, say, some of the V/Bs out there, I think it's doing pretty damn good with the reviewers. o_0;; You surprise me and flatter me at the same time. I am humble and bow to you, o' mighty reviewers, for you are-- uh-- I dunno. You just are. ^_^

Because I'm nice, I'm gonna mention names. ^_^ Thanks to: HaloGatomon, Raidne the Silent Siren, Yami Kaosu, leelee, Rez, newtypeshadow, sumsum, lime, Mazianz39, Hotaru-chan6666, and asprodrakos! *BREATHE* You all just rock. ^_^ If there's anyone else I forgot to mention, please forgive me. I am very much thankful for your presence and review, even if your name isn't up there!

Enjoy reading!

**"All You Have"**

**~chapter seven~**

by: Rosalyn Angel

I had my old clothes back. For that, in some deep recess of my mind, I was glad. But mostly I was silently fuming, sitting on the couch and dramatically slouched with crossed arms. I almost looked like I was pouting. That's close enough anyway.

So the whole revenge thing wasn't entirely what I had considered it to be. Maybe it was just me having a grudge at you, not completely for murdering my sister, but also for making me feel comfortable living with you. Oh, look. You kind of felt the same way. Twins with different blood, indeed.

Normal. It was _normal_ for me to be sleeping under the same roof as you. If I tried somewhere else, it would feel weird and I would probably notice how much the bed squeaked. I hate it when the bed is all creaky; it keeps me awake since I toss and turn quite a bit--

I'm off-topic again. Yeah. I know...

Anyway, right then, thinking was a bad thing to do. I could have discovered another truth I didn't want to mull over. So I eventually concluded to turn on the radio, hoping that drama thing was over. Sure thing it was, but music wasn't playing. Actually, nothing was. It was only incoherent static that made my eyes cross from the high annoyance factor, so I clicked it off and once again pouted. At least I had my old clothes back.

Cue boredom. Cue boredom-induced humming. Cue grumpy demi-Saiyan from behind, scowling and snapping to "shut up."

I sighed. The house was quiet and you kept on walking, probably heading into the kitchen. I bet you were hungry and intended to make a snack or even a meal. My mouth began to water at the mental image of food, ranging from meat to vegetables to... meat again. I stood to follow you so I could sneak in a bite, but stopped in my tracks when I heard your soft curse. Soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, an accusing look across your face as usual.

"We're low," you said, knowing I would understand what we were low on. "I'm going out to restock. You don't leave this house or touch anything." You turned, but paused to look over your shoulder, your long hair shadowing your face. "And stay out of my room."

I smiled despite my inner troubles and gave a little wave to you as you exited. I felt your ki jump as you flew into the air, no doubt trying to hurry. Of course I could go out and start killing people... but that wasn't normal anymore, and I liked being alive still. Instead I stayed in that house, humming a song or two, and walked around aimlessly. Being me, of course I went into your room and moved around a few books to see if you would notice that they had been tampered with.

I poked around your wooden desk, opening its drawers and flipping through some of the papers scattered across it. It seemed as though you were quite the one for writing and literature, because you had written several poems and short stories. Perhaps your mother had tried to teach you science and math, but you hadn't been interested in those subjects and focused on the art of language.

I hadn't really read any before, but since the radio was just static, I figured it would cure my boredom. I flipped through a few papers and pulled out one that seemed intriguing. The paper was new and recent, still in good condition, unlike a large number of the others. Your handwriting was scrawled across it in a frenzy, as if the pen had been too slow for your thoughts.

"I don't know what I'm doing," it read. "This is insane. He should be dead, right? By my hand. He and his sister killed everyone! Gohan, my mothe--" The ink of the pen was smeared there, as if water had been dripped onto it. "Dear God, I'm so selfish... but I wouldn't be able to stand how silent it would be with no one around. You understand that, don't you, mother? Please understand... I'm not as strong as everyone thought I am. I have a weakness, a need for company and people around me, people that I know and--" Another smear, larger than before.

I found my eyes pausing at that point, not reading on and instead stuffing the paper back into the drawer. My educated guess was that _that_ particular journal entry was from the night so long ago, when I had heard you wailing but your door had been locked. Sure, you weren't a magnificent writer, but for daily thoughts, you conveyed them well enough. Those thoughts just happened to be pained ones. Not like I cared; I just had nothing better to do.

I got tired of shifting through papers that generally all looked the same-- same type of material, same handwriting, same pain. So I walked out and then into the infamous living room, where I found the Metal Wristband of Doom still laying rejected near the wall it had been smashed against. I stood over it, showing just who was superior after you had deactivated it.

Now, I wondered, just why did you risk leaving me alone in your house without any restriction on my power? You knew I could skip around outside and blast a few humans, but yet you still left. It couldn't be that you trusted me, far from it. Maybe you too had a mutual (though rough) understanding of this: if I wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't kill me. I had tested your side many times before and it was proven, for I was still alive. If you considered the old Juunana to be still alive, that is.

I snorted. I hadn't changed; my surroundings had. I adapted, that's all. I'd always be an unfeeling bastard, that's how my mind went. My sister's death and then suddenly living with you had occurred too quickly. That had been the first time I remember my surroundings changing, so I wasn't entirely sure if I was handling it right. The only thing I had to guide me was my animal instinct to survive and keep myself occupied. That, I was doing well enough. Both requirements had been met, so I supposed I should just lay back in my new life and forget I ever had another one. It was easier that way.

My sneaker hovered over the wristband. My hands were still in my back pockets as I balanced myself gracefully on one foot, contemplating. Perhaps you knew I had come to such a conclusion and figured I wouldn't do anything like smack humans around. True, the urge to kill them was still there, but that was in the past. I didn't do that anymore. Killing them would remind me of Juuhachi, and that much thinking isn't good for anyone, as I usually say.

So, maybe you thought you had a bit of power over me for making me consider this new life normal, and that was why you left me alone.

My brows knitted. The hovering sneaker soon crunched down on the wristband, gently at first, then with increasing force. I heard it metallically whine as it was flattened into the carpet. It was such a weak thing; how dared it control me for so long...

... yeah, I know. I change topics when I don't want to delve into something.

******

_ It was dark before, the man thinks, but now the scenery is almost invisible. The stars do not shine because of the clouds spreading across the night sky, and the moon tries to hide from him. The snow covers his vision, an odd fluttering white against black. He kneels down in the snow, his jeans growing damp and his blue jacket tightly wrapped around him. Then he reaches out a hand as if to touch an object, but hesitates, and his hand falls back onto his lap once more._

******

It was then when I felt a nearby disturbance. Apparently you had returned, and I supposed that was a good thing. I wanted to taste some of that stuff you bargained from the salvagers. It wouldn't be anything grand. It was most likely canned food. But I guess that was my own doing, cutting down the economy and all.

I took one last glance at the wristband before burning it to ashes with energy. There was nothing left except a scorched ring on the carpet. You would probably get on my case about that later, but oh well. No big deal. Not giving it any further thought, I sauntered over to greet you by immediately grabbing some of the food, but apparently you hadn't come inside yet. I groaned impatiently and leaned against the wall next to the door to the outside, my foot tapping.

Strange. I didn't feel any ki--

I yelled in surprise. Before I could react, a clawed hand had literally torn through the wall, causing bits of plaster to float down around me, and grabbed me by my throat. First thought was that people seemed to enjoy choking me. Second was that it wasn't you.

"Juunana..." a rough, scratchy voice muttered, heard through the newly formed hole in the wall which was large enough only for the stranger's hand. "I finally found you..."

I gagged then tore myself away from the grip, flipping around, just in time to avoid a pointed tail smashing through where my back had been. The wall cracked considerably from the holes, dust picking up which stung my eyes, until a good portion of it crumbled to the floor in hunks of debris. The site which welcomed me-- I couldn't describe it any other way except: it was a big, really ugly, green bug.

"Ahh..." the green bug sighed as if relieved. "My long search is over... Tell me, Juunana, where is the other? Where is Juuhachi?"

I growled, rubbing my throat. If it wasn't you, it was something with sharp claws. "Care to tell me what the hell you are first?" My icy eyes carefully observed the thing. It looked like it had an exoskeleton of green with black spots, a brown beak for a mouth, and weird horns sticking out of its head. I couldn't help but give a funny face for my disgust.

"Cell," it said. "I am Cell, a superior being, and you and your sister belong to me..."

Not only did his (I guess) appearance hurt my eyes, but his voice was downright annoying. "Huh," I spat, shifting into a battle stance. "Last time I checked, I belonged to no one, especially after I killed Doctor Gero. Am I gonna have to dispose of you, too?"

Cell grinned dementedly, his long slithering tail, with what looked like a stinger at the end, twitching behind him. "But first, where is Juuhachi? Tell me, why don't you? I have waited long enough."

I snorted. "She's dead."

The creature paused, cat-like eyes stretching out wide. "How? Impossible!"

I thought that once, too.

I couldn't answer because Cell charged at me with a frustrated growl, his three-toed feet making squeaky noises whenever they touched down. I would have laughed, but I had to jump back to avoid the swipe of his tail. I didn't want to come into contact with that stinger. I also didn't want to come into contact with you after you saw what happened to your wall, so I quickly flew out of the hole and went straight into the bright blue sky. Cell followed.

I looked down as I blasted up in a trail of white energy, my black hair blowing around my face with a will of its own. Scowling, I tossed down several shots of ki to shake Cell off, but he just knocked them all to the side effortlessly, causing them to make dents in the land below. I winced. That was your yard; and I had left the house, messed up your room, and scorched the carpet. I was really asking for it, but at the time, I was more concerned with the green bug.

"Why do you run?" Cell laughed. "Are you afraid?"

That got me to stop with a frown. He ceased flying a few feet below me. "Of an oversized roach? Yeah, right."

Cell smirked, his pink eyes glinting dangerously. "Very well."

He was so fast; I almost didn't have time to block. But I did, and was forced to take the defensive side. He used all of his limbs, including his tail, to attack. That made it difficult to parry both arms and legs with my own and simultaneously evade the stabbing tail. I was then thankful for my endless energy supply, but was starting to curse at my inability to counterattack. It wasn't possible that this... _thing_ was stronger. First you, then this?

I hated change. Oh-so much.

I mistook a punch for a move to kick, and ended up getting a fist right in my face. I was knocked back, spiraling, but Cell caught me by the collar of my shirt, his tail wrapping around my waist to trap me. I struggled, my legs immobile, alternating my fists to punch. He caught all of them with one hand. Then, without my knowledge, the stinger of his tail opened wide above my head.

"Bye-bye, Juunana."

I turned my head around and my mouth hung open, unable to utter a word. Inside that stinger which spread out like a cup was pitch-black, an ongoing dark void which no doubt led into Cell's body. Did he intend to put me in there!?

Just then, I was never so happy to see you.

"Cell!" you yelled in a strong voice, dropping the food bags you held. They dropped to the ground, scattering. "Let him go!"

"Hm..." Cell trailed off, as if he was searching through his own mind. "Trunks, yes. You... you killed Juuhachi, didn't you? But why not this one, too?" he mumbled. "No matter... I'll find a way to become perfect..."

You breathed deeply, flitting your eyes between the tail and me. It was still wrapped around my waist and constricting, bruising my ribs and sending a jolt of pain through me. I heard myself chuckle at the irony; it was like the snake tightening itself around my insides.

The opened stinger flashed down. I heard your muffled shout, but after that, there was nothing.

I woke to the sound of clothes, or just cloth, ruffling, almost in a rhythmical pattern. At this point, my mind was fuzzy and I couldn't register if I was either alive or dead, or what the difference even was. I guessed if I was dead, then my sister would be snapping at me as soon as my eyes opened, but she wasn't; thus I was alive.

I emitted something between a moan and a curse and blinked my eyes several times. It was a familiar ceiling, I noted, and it happened to belong to your living room. Specifically, it was the white ceiling right above your couch. I had spent many hours on that couch. Perhaps too many.

I sluggishly turned my head, just _feeling_ how tangled my hair was. A rinse would do it good, but it wasn't required. A brush would suffice. However, that idea quickly eluded me when my eyes focused, and I saw you sitting on the opposite side of the room, on the floor, faced away from me. To your right was an assortment of medical supplies-- small trinkets, really. I had no wounds on my body, save a few bruises, from the fight against the creature called Cell-- 

Cell? Yeah, Cell. What had happened? I remembered you shouting and there being nothing but black around me... but that was all. The logical explanation would be (taking the facts that I was alive and Cell was absent) that you had fought and won.

But that didn't seem right; I had already been entrapped in that hideous tail. In order for me to be alive, you would have actually had to save me. Why not just let me die at the hands of Cell so you could get rid of me without having to do it yourself? You hated me, didn't you? It would have been easy to watch me die and then dispose of Cell, then you would have been android-free. You wouldn't have had to live with the fact that you had killed your only means of pressing back the silence, me.

Or was I thinking too much in the past? I was; because I now knew that you were as deep in as I was, and you wouldn't freely allow things to change so suddenly. Everything had to remain as it was. Meaning I was to stay in your house and be me, while you felt ashamed and were you. It wasn't ideal, but I don't think either of us could have been able to handle another change very well, so we clung together and satisfied each other's needs to go on living, however content or miserable our lives were.

I rested my eyes on your skin, noticing the lack of a shirt (it was discarded near the first aid kit) and that your strong arms held a roll of gauze. After placing a bottle of disinfectant down, you began, with both hands, wrapping the light-colored, heavy bandage around your abdomen. There was already one layer around your chest. I had most likely woken up to its weaving.

You were quiet and I made not a sound. I believe the room was deathly quiet, but I couldn't help it. I was still dazed from coming out of my unconscious state, and the movement of your hands juggling the roll of gauze around and around your waist was memorizing. I think I spaced out, but not for long, because I sat up and was in control of my body once more.

Sitting up allowed my vision to have a new angle, and I saw blood staining the bandages in your front, two large patches of red, one on your chest and one on your stomach. The higher wound must have been shallow because it didn't bleed nearly as much as the lower. I blinked more, and my mind clicked.

You must have gotten hurt while-- I winced at the term-- saving me.

Of course you would have a difficult time trying to protect my limp self while still keeping your eye on Cell. You never had to protect and fight at the same time before (well, not in such a manner where the one you were protecting was being sought after) so it probably led to a few mistakes on your part. All of this gave way to one realization:

You could have died.

I didn't think I would care, at least if it had happened earlier. But at that point in time, it made a cold uncertainty settle itself into my gut. You could have died, like Juuhachi did. Once again, "normal" would have vanished and change would have occurred. I didn't want that to happen; I hated change. Everything had to remain as it was.

The thought of you dying left me to blank. It wasn't for the fact that you could have died; it was for the truth of where that event would leave me. I would once again have lost my twin, and this time, there would be no one to fulfill that role. I would be alone. You were all I had.

All I had.

I remember precisely what words went through my head, every last one of them. Even though at the time my mind was hazy and I really shouldn't recall it so clearly, I know every last sound and movement and color; it's all stamped on my brain, that particular scene is, no matter how hard I've tried to forget it.

My limbs moved by themselves as I walked, or rather staggered, over to you. I saw you stiffen, your fingers digging into the roll of bandage, and I kneeled down behind you, neither of us speaking. Even as the blood continued to stain the bandage farther, you made no move to stop it, and instead tried to concentrate on breathing. I glanced down at the red substance, still fresh (had I not been unconscious long?) and vaguely wondered if you could still die from blood loss. I couldn't let you die.

Why are you just letting it bleed like that? I thought. Don't you know what would happen if you died? I would be left with a world that is no longer fun because I have no one to kill humans with, and an empty house with no one to tease. Do you realize how much I would have to think? Selfish fool, you can't just die and do that to me. I won't allow it, I thought, I won't allow it.

My hands snatched the bandage from you and, mimicking your actions, began to weave it around and around your waist, having to lean forward so to pass it from hand to hand in the front. You seemed like you didn't know how to react. It might have appeared like an act of kindness to you, but you misunderstood; I was just making sure what was mine didn't die.

"That's enough," you softly said, and I stopped weaving. You ended the bandage and clipped it down securely, dropping the roll into the kit and closing the lid. You never looked back. Or maybe you did. I couldn't quite tell because your lavender hair hid your face. I like your hair, I monotonously thought, so don't change it.

You began to stand, but I wouldn't let you. I reached up, my hands pressing down on your shoulders, and made you sit in your previous position. My arms slithered around yours then down your chest, careful to avoid the wound, locking you in your place. You couldn't get away, I knew, and it wasn't because of my strength. You sat, stunned, and tried to figure out what was going on.

Did my half-lidded, delirious eyes pierce into the back of your skull? Did my hands burn you like dried ice? Did you suffer, o' beautifully hateful one, your eyes swirling with mixed and confused emotions?

Don't change, I mentally pleaded, because you're so enticing that way. Keep your hair at its length and your emotions in your eyes and your blood in your veins, and stay alive, because I hate change. Don't be a selfish fool, and do as I say.

I don't know what came over me. I was desperate to cling onto the only thing I had left, my twin, my mirror opposite, mine, mine, mine...

I leaned forward, bringing my lips to your ear and breathing hotly onto your skin. You tensed under my firm hold. I whispered only one word:

"Mine."

** ~end of chapter seven~**


	8. of chills and blankets

Author's Notes: ... yeah, it's been like... three months since I've updated, but really now! We all need a break once in a while, don't we? ^_^ *gets pelted by tomatoes* ... eheh? ^^;; Seriously though, I've just been majorly obsessed with Lord of the Rings lately, and have been writing a good amount for that. If you're a fan of the books/movies, then be my guest and read some of my LotR ficcies! If not, then... don't. ^_^

I hope I still have Juunana and Trunks in-character for what I've done to them. After so long I lost my grip on them a wee bit; I hope it doesn't show in the future chapters. I'm trying to get my groove back since I swore to myself not to start another chapter story until this one was done, and also to no means would I rush this just to finish it. Side note: if you guys see any errors/typos I didn't catch, tell me and I'll fix it in a jiffy. ^_^

In any case, here's the eighth chapter. It's a _bit_ more light-hearted (*gasp!*) than the past few chapters. Also, for those of you who are still with me even after my long hiatus, thank you very much! I'm glad people like this story so far! It makes me feel so loved, all of these reviews and such. ^_~ And I know I left it at such a major point last chapter, and I probably will THIS chapter too; but hey! It's all in the good fun. In the meanwhile, enjoy and review! *hugs to all*

Another thing I would like to add is a personal thanks to Deani, or Deanybean, for her e-mail and IM about this story. It made me realize that people still read this thing and kicked me in the butt to start working again. Fans are inspiring. ^_^!!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

"All You Have"

~chapter eight~

by: Rosalyn Angel

Time slowed, or so I thought. The grandfather clock near us chimed at the late hour, each of its bells in slow motion, low and dragging out as if it was growling at us. I didn't bother to pay attention to it much. I was focused solely on you as your eyes widened, your breath quickened, and your mind worked through my simple statement.

You were my mirror opposite. You were all I had left. If you died, there would be nothing but that damned house. _I_ would be nothing; there would be no one to reflect my image so I could know who I am. I would have no purpose but to be bored, and that was a fate I wasn't looking forward to. So my only option was to make sure you stayed around, that no one took you away from me in _any_ manner, because you were my twin; and I needed you, so I could define myself.

"Mine," I said again, my fingers digging into your skin. You breathed in sharply and I scooted closer, looming over you and closing my body around your back. I wanted you in my sight, so I could make sure you stayed; possessive, obsessive, desperate I was.

And confused, to a certain degree – these emotions, how do I handle them? I had never felt them before, never experienced them. They were human feelings; so how was an android supposed to deal with them? I tried to ignore them, to contain them, but they kept surging through me. I wasn't experienced enough to suppress them. It made me wonder how you could stand having the blasted things, and that perhaps you were stronger than I in that area too.

It made me angry. You did this to me, made me feel these feelings of a human; you made me a weak emotional thing, clinging onto my twin because I didn't want to be alone and bored. How _dare_ you, making me seem weaker, making me confused on how to control it, making me actually feel that _possession_ for you...

My fingers dug harder, nails making little crescent shapes. How dare you make me need you, I thought, you selfish fool. But even if I'm weak like you, I'll show you I'm still in control, that I can handle these emotions as well as any human. No, that I can handle them _better_.

... deep in my mind, I knew I never would.

******

_ He is shivering, the cold chilling him to his bones. His teeth chatter, but he does not raise himself from his kneeled position and only hangs his head, making his hair stick to his face. He does not understand why he is so cold; he has a jacket on. It should be protecting him more than it is. Or perhaps it is his own fault. He cannot ignore the snow any longer._

******

You moved to stand, and this time I let you, my arms slipping from your shoulders as you staggered away. Your mouth danced on possible words; and I just watched you, a dazed look on my face. The blood – it was seeping more. You pressed your hand against it on your stomach.

"Th... thanks," you said, fingers trailing along the bandage. It seemed as though you didn't want to acknowledge what had occurred and forced your mind onto smaller things.

You decided to go into your room, so I stood to follow you, keeping you in my sight. I couldn't have you mysteriously dying on me, now could I? I was still in a numb realization then, and I couldn't quite make sensible actions. All I knew was that I had to keep you around for my own needs. 

You either didn't bother, or just forgot, to close your door; you appeared shook up to me. Did you understand what you had gotten yourself into, making me feel something for you, a real human emotion? Did you fear it? I wished for you to turn your eyes to me, and show it.

Instead you fiddled around in your desk, searching through papers and books. I leaned against your doorframe casually, looking more curious and thoughtful than anything else. What were you do– oh. You must have noticed the stuff I moved around earlier and were fixing it. You were kind of compulsive like that, had to have your things in just the right way. It was amusing to a point, to watch you bat everything shakily, trying to take your mind off of disturbing memories.

"Don't you have something to do?" you suddenly said without looking in my direction. You were irritated.

Ah, this game, I thought. This is a fun game.

"Maybe I do, but you yourself said I was lazy, so I think I'll just leave it undone," I said, remembering all the little quarrels we had. It wouldn't be too bad, I decided, to live the rest of my life with those little quarrels. I would be entertained and comfortable. Your point of view was probably another story.

The exercise of using my wit began to clear my mind more so I could coldly calculate things again. I was grateful for the argument, and I smirked at you.

"Go listen to the radio," was your not-so good comeback as you walked into the hallway, passing me. "I have to get the food."

Hopefully your battle hadn't disintegrated everything on the ground. I was waiting for something tasty.

"Be my guest," I said, stepping to the side and waving my hand at your path. I was feeling better, able to think more in my usual terms; but that nagging truth was still in the back of my head. You were all I had.

You went outside, frowning at your exit (it was the hole that Cell had made) and muttered something about patching it up later. It happened upon me that all of this (returning to you, considering this life normal, the battle against Cell, and... other things) had been over the course of a single day. No wonder you were so stressed, eh?

I did as ordered and sat myself on the couch that would probably meld to my butt sooner or later, turning on the radio in the process. Much to my dismay there was still static. Cell had killed all the radio people, hadn't he? All the more reason for me to hate bugs. Especially green ones. I'll never forget that freak.

So I sighed and slouched, letting the static fill the room. I didn't feel like turning it off; any type of sound was welcomed right then. It probably made my eyes cross without me knowing it, but ah well.

There was a definite draft in the room from the large hole next to the door, and I was beginning to feel its affects because goose bumps were forming on my arms. I groaned and shifted, lying on my side, then on my stomach, then on my back, until I returned to sitting up and rubbing my arms. Hm, maybe...

I believe you had the weirdest look on your face when you returned with the retrieved bags of food. It was kind of crunched up but your eyebrows were up to your hairline, one slightly arched, and your mouth dropped open a little. I bet you weren't expecting to see your used-to-be most feared adversary with his arms tucked inside his shirt and his legs in the same space like a little android ball. Yeah, neither was I.

"... hi," I said dully, not a bit uncomfortable in my position, or even embarrassed. I got cold and I was taking care of it; there's no shame in that.

The expression fell from your face, but the raised eyebrows remained. "Uh, hi," you said, then went back into the kitchen. You were lucky: you had that jacket. You were warm.

I heard shuffling in the kitchen which was the sound of the food being put away. I sat there, unmoving and cursing the broken wall. But at least I had my twin in the other room.

It took no longer than a few short hours for the sun to set and end my long day. My taste buds were pleased, and we could go on for another couple of weeks with the heap of supplies you had brought back. After putting the food away in their respective cabinets, you had worked on patching the hole with wood, but it was only to be temporary. You eventually bricked it up again and found some way to put more plaster up when the economy grew. Although I could see the discoloration where the hole used to be, I supposed it was a fair job. But you didn't do all that until later, so I had to live with the cold draft that seeped through the wood. Stupid autumn.

In any case, I stood before my bed, memories of the day flashing through my mind. Waking up to you choking me and seeing you, for the first time, as my mirror opposite. Seeing you and considering all of this normal. Seeing you hurt and thinking you could have died and selfishly left me on my own, near panicking and clinging onto you.

You. Normal. Twin. Need.

I shook my head. There was no use pondering it when I should be snoring. Normally then I would yank off my two shirts to go to sleep, but the draft still got to me. I flipped down the covers and literally crawled in, settling my body into the welcoming comfort. Soon the plain blankets were wrapped around me and I was staring at the ceiling. I could hear you getting ready for bed too, since your room was close enough for my ears. There was a shuffle, a click of a light, and then silence. You didn't snore. You probably slept like the dead, not moving at all. I had commented earlier on how I was a restless sleeper.

Everything was dark and I pulled tighter on the blankets. I hate being cold. Probably as much as I hate being controlled... no, not that much. I just hate it.

I turned my head to the window, spying the blinking stars and luminous crescent moon. I couldn't get my mind to shut off for some rest; it was on its damned train of thought again. And it was all your fault, making me think of you like that. But yeah, I'd show you I was still in control. I could handle these foreign feelings just fine. I just needed to learn how.

But enough on the heavy subjects, I thought. How about curing the problem of no warmth?

I could get more blanke– no. You had the rest. And you had your jacket. Well, really I wasn't freezing or anything; it was just a little chilly. But it was enough to keep me awake. I was more sensitive to cold than humans. What a jip.

I threw off the covers with a frustrated growl. The only possible solution was to gather more blankets; you wouldn't let me touch your precious jacket. So I marched off to your room, not-so quietly opening the door, and then stood with crossed arms and a tapping foot. It didn't take you long to notice me.

"What do you want?" you grumbled, sounding half-asleep. Must have been worn out a little.

"I'm taking your blankets," I said plainly, walking up to the bed and looking down at you.

You were on your back, trying to be at ease with your injuries, with your arm across your face. You still wore no shirt except the gauze. You took a moment to frown, blinking your eyes to adjust them to the dark, and then answered: "No."

"I'm cold," I said and reached down to yank them away.

You snapped up your hands and held onto the thin sheets. "Too bad," you said, neither of us in a real witty mood. We were tired, drowsy, and just wanted sleep.

"You humans have stupid body heat," I dully argued back, yanking on them again. "Now hand them over."

"Then sleep near something warm, like a heater."

My hands released the blankets, and I took a second to blink as you grunted and pulled the sheets over your head, muttering for me to get out of your room.

Your electronic heater was broken.

So what did I do? I picked up the corner of the blankets and slid myself into the bed, squeezing into the tiny space between your body and the edge. There was complete silence and you remained hidden under the covers.

"What are you doing?" I heard your muffled voice.

"Sleeping next to something warm," I answered in the middle of a yawn. "You told me to."

There was a ruffle and you scooted closer to the wall, away from me. I frowned at the sudden cold spot on that side.

"... doesn't it make you uncomfortable?" you said quietly, almost nervously. Then your demanding tone returned: "Get out."

"Make up your mind," I said. "You want me to get out and take your blankets, or sleep next to something warm?" I felt you shift and quickly added on: "If you go into another room, I'll just follow you."

I didn't understand why you would be uncomfortable. Was it a human thing again? I just didn't want to be cold, and that was all. You offered a solution, so I took it. I would have to look in your journal papers later to see if you wrote down your thoughts about it.

You didn't answer. Neither option I gave appealed to you, so you just kept quiet and were probably trying to wish me away. After another few moments of silence, me on my back with my hands behind my head, I spoke a warning so you wouldn't kill me later: "I move around a lot."

But you were already asleep.

Morning came quicker than I ever wanted it to. My eyes cracked open and I moaned into the set of pillows that my cheek was pressing into. At first the world was a blur; then I felt warmth, then something soft, and finally a hot puff of wind on my nose. My vision cleared and I saw your face turned to me, rather close, while I was curled up on my side around you with one arm above your and my head, and the other splayed over the unhurt section of your chest. Though _you_ hadn't moved an inch.

... well then, I thought, blankly staring at your face as your breath tickled my skin. Wasn't _that_ something different to wake up to.

I didn't really think much of anything else. Yeah, so I woke up in a rather suggestive position. So what? The only thing I cared about right then was that I wasn't cold. But still, I hadn't been that close to someone unless it was in a battle, either a physical or a mental one. I guess it was a little odd to feel your breath on my skin; to have my arm slightly raise up with every intake of air; to have your hair weave through mine, lavender through black – but still... so what?

I moved out of the bed as silently as I could. I didn't want you to kill me when you woke up. I tended to want to avoid that.

We had basically the same argument every time I was cold at night, and it always ended the same way. I always woke up before you because I simply had to, in order to move before you saw how I unintentionally held onto you while you were sleeping. I usually told you: if you wanted me out, then either you gave up your blankets or fixed the wall. One: you were cold as well. Two: you didn't have the materials for such a job at the time. Thus we were stuck.

Several days passed. Things were as peaceful as they possibly could be with us under the same roof. I watched you more carefully than before. I just couldn't keep that nagging feeling away that I actually felt anything besides anger or sadistic glee towards someone. It made me feel even more on edge and alert around you, to shove down that sudden possessive nature.

See? I was handling it and keeping it under control well enough. I was strong, better than any human. Now if only I hadn't gotten so relaxed on the matter of sleeping next to something warm... I would have woken up before you that one morning.

** ~end of chapter eight~**


	9. of twins and breakfast

Author's Notes: . . . wow. I really chucked this sucker out quickly, didn't I? ^_^ It just so happened one night that I had a burst of creativity and completely planned out _exactly_ (I had a vague idea before) what I wanted for the rest of the story, so it's easier now for me to just write and not have to pause and think. ^_^;; There's going to be a total of eleven chapters to this story, this being the ninth, so after this I'm afraid we only have two more to go! I can't believe it – I mean, this would be the first chapter story I've ever finished! *sweatdrop* All of my others I lost interest in or were just too long for me to keep at them . . . but I love these two characters so much. *hugs them*

I'm afraid that I'm rushing it though. It didn't seem to me that I was at the time; but reading over it, I'm like: ". . . ummm?" But personally I just thought it was too cute to erase and do over. -_-;; Which takes me to my next point! So far there's been a lot more drama than romance, but after the halfway point in this chapter, the drama begins to slide back into the background some. It'll appear again later on, but for now we got some cuteness. Not quite shounen-ai cuteness yet, but definitely cuteness. ^_^ There's also probably a lot of typos, too; please tell me if you see them. -_-;;

As for all of those who wanted to maul me for the last chapter's cliffhanger (eheh? ^^;), I got this out quicker than usual and also because of my sudden creativity. And there's not quite as much of one at this chapter's end, so you can be content for a while if chappy ten takes me a good few weeks, right? Right? Because it might. I wanna try to make it one of the better ones. ^_^!!

Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the support! ^_^

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

"All You Have"

~chapter nine~

by: Rosalyn Angel

I grunted as my back harshly collided with the wall, snapping my head against it with a resonating crack. I remember briefly thinking "ow" as I slid down to slump on the carpeted floor, but I was a little out of it at the time, so I can't really tell you for sure.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me again!" I heard your enraged shout as you stood by the side of the disheveled bed, lavender hair tousled and clothes wrinkled from sleep. Apparently mornings didn't dampen your mood much, 'cause you seemed readily pissed off.

So much for waking up before you to move, I thought. Whatever happened to my survival instincts?

I groaned, holding my head, and shakily stood. You had tossed me away pretty well. I bet there was at least a dent in the wall. It hadn't a fighting toss, though; it had been a surprised, frantic, get-the-hell-away-from-me toss. If it had been the previous, no doubt I would have made more than just a dent.

"Whatever," I said, my brain still a little jarred. "You were warm, so my body goes to the warmth. It's not like I intentionally snuggled."

I took a moment to glance at the window. Well _no wonder_ I didn't wake before you; the sun still had to rise. The night was thick with predawn and I could almost smell the morning dew on the grass. If you had stayed asleep for just a few more minutes, the situation would never have happened. It was your fault. That's childish, I know, but I think I regressed some when I promptly got my head smacked against the plaster.

Your eyes almost seemed to glow. Ah, this rage again. I knew this seething anger well, burning in your eyes as your fists clenched together and your face scowled. The beautiful anger from before, in your eyes again, visible even in the dim of the room. I was suddenly confident again in my decision of not killing you much earlier; you wouldn't disappoint my entertainment, I knew. And I wouldn't disappoint you: I made your life interesting: I made it worth living.

That was pretty smug after just getting my ass handed to me, but it was the truth as I saw it.

"Is that all you're going to say?" you said with a low growl, apparently not agreeing with my answer.

For a moment I laughed, but I choked it down and leaned back against the wall. I didn't want to wobble from dizziness. "You make it sound as though you would listen if I did."

There was a snort, and I amused myself by watching a wisp of lavender hair wave from the said sound. "I'm sleeping alone from now on–"

I opened my mouth to protest about the blankets, but you continued:

"–and you keep the covers. I don't care. Just... just don't touch me."

My mouth closed the precise second you walked by to exit into the hall. Well, that solved that problem. Now I had an entire bed of blankets for myself, and I could sprawl out to my leisure without the worry of being maimed. Shrugging and guessing I could sleep in some more, as you would do (I had always reluctantly moved to my own room after waking up at dawn, in order to doze more), I sauntered over to your bed and plopped face down onto it, relishing in the comforter and– 

I paused. The pillows smelled like lilacs. My eyebrow twitched of its own accord.

Suddenly the bed seemed too large for just me.

I must have spent only a few minutes staring at the white ceiling, tangled comfortably in the blankets, because Mr. Sun decided to beam through the window brightly and hit me smack dab in my retina. I might have hissed, but I don't consider myself _that_ nocturnal. Still I flung the covers over my head with a groan, my limbs haphazardly flopped across the mattress. 

You just _had_ to wake up right before dawn. Usually by now I would already be in the safety of my own bed, though not as warm, and dreaming of stupid things: like killing cute little fuzzy creatures and putting itching powder down my sister's front. Just a _few more minutes_ I needed for my internal alarm to ring... but no. You _had_ to wake up.

Was I cynical? No. Just grumpy; my head hurt. Wouldn't you be grumpy if your head hurt? Well I–

Score another for me: I _really_ got off-topic there.

I gave a frown and flipped down the covers; there was no use trying to sleep anymore that day. I was also kinda curious as to where you chose to lie down. Not my bed, that was sure, so I guessed the couch.

Straightening my hair and clothes as much as they could be, I sauntered to the living room. The couch's back greeted me and when I saw nothing over it, I assumed you were lying down. Surely you weren't insane enough to stay up. I knew you could easily fall asleep wherever you wanted. I mean, I found you on your lawn one time.

I crept, nearly on my tip-toes, across the short space between the bedroom hallway and the wider area of the living room to where the couch was at. When I reached it, I held onto its fluffy back and hunched over to peer down. Yep. You were there, curled on your side, face buried into the pillows and holding your arms, which were for once bare of your jacket. You had that black thing on though – and the bandages were missing, since you had long since healed from the fight against Cell.

And you were cold. It didn't take a genius to know that: you wedged yourself as far into the couch as you could. I mused that you would fall into the crack and forever be lost in dust and missing quarters, but I snapped myself back to reality when I realized that my grumpy mood had deserted me the moment I saw you.

I couldn't stay angry at you. I used to hate you, now I couldn't stay even mad – everything was normal and feeling right and as easy as things could be. That snake of hatred squeezing me from the inside out melted away and released me. I supposed it was a sibling thing: I could taunt you ruthlessly and laugh at how pitiful you were, but I couldn't stay mad for long, no matter what you did. It had been the same with Juuhachi.

I blinked, looking down upon your slumbering face, so much more relaxed, the worry lines smoothed out from your forehead. I remember seeing my sister asleep once and she didn't look nearly as annoying as she did when awake. I guess you were kind of the same like that, but not annoying either way.

It registered in my head that I was beginning to think of you more and more as my twin as the days went by, yet I still treated you as... you. There wasn't any bad in that, I suppose, but at the time it made me feel like I was trying to ignore and push down those new emotions. I mean, I certainly wasn't afraid of them; I could handle them. So why had I been mulling over them yet not doing anything like they didn't exist? I wasn't some immature human who needed to lock them away. I said I could be _better_ than a human, so that meant I had to bring them up to the surface more. Just a little more. I wasn't about to handle all of them at once.

I laid my arms across the back of the couch, raising an eyebrow. Twin, huh? So that meant I might as well have to start treating you more like one.

That included the pranks, too.

I stayed there for a while, my chin in my arms, looking down at you in a detached sort of way. I thought about how my pranks on sis usually had two different outcomes: complete and utter rage or a small smirk. Considering where you currently stood with me, I wasn't ready to risk the former. But a good simple prank sent my mind humming with old excitement. It had been an entertaining past time, and now it could be an entertaining present time, especially with a new subject. 

I was about to happily stroll off, plotting what I could do, when I caught you shiver out of the corner of my eye. I paused suddenly, my hands in my pockets. Sis and I used to watch each other's backs when fighting, though we had never really needed extra protection. That didn't mean we took care of each other, far from it; it had always been a more subtle thing...

You woke up later to find a thin blanket draped across your form.

... I hadn't needed it anyway.

******

_ Still he is kneeling in the snow, his arms wrapped around himself, the night black and starless from covering clouds. The snowflakes fall from the void of a sky, and he feels them all with chilling clarity. His shoulders begin to shake; if someone is to walk by, they may suspect he is weeping. But inside the curtain of his hair, he is laughing._

******

When we crossed paths later that day, you glanced at me warily then turned your eyes to the floor. I grinned cheekily, then continued to occupy the couch you had left alone. The blanket was still there, so I took the opportunity to wrap it around my shoulders and sit cocooned. Autumn was wearing on and slowly the air grew colder. Great.

I heard you curse behind me. It surprised me that you were still there after I had passed you by; but your footsteps soon leading in the opposite direction told me that you had decided to go. Now alone, I voted to turn on the radio in hopes that they had gotten new casters – and lo and behold, there was no static and a song blared through. Gee, this day was turning out good. Except for my headache earlier, but I was trying to banish that memory.

I crossed my legs and was content for the moment. There were a lot of guitars in this song, and a lot of screaming. I wondered if you thought whether they had fixed the radio stations at all or if it was just "that racket" playing again. Well, I happen to _like_ said racket, so you had to live with it. I'm sure it was more tolerable than I.

You walked by, this time with your jacket on (now with sleeves; I assumed you had two pairs) and a visible scowl. I could have sworn you were seriously considering chucking the electronic out the window that time, having it back to grind your nerves after a long period of being racket-free. But you didn't voice your opinion and instead continued on into the kitchen, probably to fix your breakfast. When the noises of pots and pans confirmed that, my mouth began to water: bacon. I knew you had it. I knew you liked it; and so did I. Very convenient for me, don't you say?

I must have looked like a perched hawk on the couch, poised and ready for its kill – or rather, its steal. I would wait for the precise moment: when you were in your room writing in your journal and counting the minutes until your breakfast would be done. It didn't take long; you didn't cook much. You had to keep it well rationed.

I heard a sizzling sound and knew it to be true: bacon there was, and (I sniffed the air) something else. Again I knew you wouldn't fix any for me, so I would have to sneak in my bite.

The plan proceeded as normal. You left for your room and I waited a few minutes until I crept into the kitchen now filled with the saliva-creating aroma of cooking meat. I spied the stove and the pans on top of it, then walked over to be hit by the sudden wavering heat from it. The kitchen had the door (and the patched-up hole) leading to the outside, so the heat was welcomed enough. The bacon and eggs sizzling were even more a welcome.

I took a good whiff and, by the smell, concluded they would soon be ready. In fact to me they were, simply because I was impatient. They seemed the right enough color. Nodding and pleased I took the fork thing you used to pick them up, and, grabbing a plate, took a generous share.

As I sat down, my plate and utensils before me, I tilted my head like a dog. I stared at the food on my plate as my imagination wildly began to work; then I thought I could use this for my first prank, simple and easy and surely not to anger you. This was my moment to begin your twin treatment and deal with myself. It meant sacrificing my food though, but there was always next morning.

Besides, I had yet to see you grin; the curiosity was killing me and undoubtably would, if you didn't first.

When you came back, I was sitting on the couch again. You took a moment to glare, wondering if I had stolen your food once more, then went into the kitchen. I darted from my place and hid behind the doorframe, peeking around to see your initial reaction.

Standing in front of the table, you were owlishly blinking down at the plate. On it were the bacon and eggs arranged to make a smily face.

And the corners of your mouth tugged up in the beginnings of your own.

It hadn't been quite what I was looking for, but it had been better than what I was expecting. By the time you had glanced over to me, I was cocooned in the blanket and listening to the radio; the barely-there smile vanished and was replaced with your normal grim expression.

The weeks passed surprisingly quietly. I had made it my new goal and hobby to quench my curiosity. With every chance, I did something subtle and then act like I wasn't paying attention while you observed whatever spectacle I had devised. I made sure it wasn't anything drastic or insulting; I had come so far without being killed, so I wasn't going to start now.

I can't remember all the little things, but there is one that stood out. I went into your room when you were getting more food supplies (and also materials to brick up and plaster the hole, which was accomplished just a few days before winter came full-blast), and found a blank page among the rest on the desk. Snatching your black pen, I held the cap end to my chin and looked up to muse. I decided to stay simple since I didn't feel too witty, wrote in as large of letters as possible, then stuck it right in the middle of your desk where you would for sure see it.

I never got the chance to see your reaction to the big "HI," but you didn't tell me not to go into your room, so I took it as a good sign.

We still didn't talk much. But your attitude ever-so slowly changed. Instead of a brief scowl in my direction, it began to look more thoughtful.

And during meals, I noticed you began to cook a little more than what you did for yourself. I knew the economy hadn't rapidly improved; so I assumed that you were actually acknowledging my presence a little, or just got annoyed that I always took half of your normal share. It made me smug to think the former though. We never ate together either; I'm sure you'd find that too awkward even now. I merely took my food and left without a glance. I felt your eyes on my back for a few moments though, before you forced them to your plate.

I went back to sleeping in my own bed, pleased that the draft had gone away. You used yours, and that morning incident was pushed back into our minds. Though whenever I brushed unintentionally close, you got tense and seemed wary.

Later, when winter was beginning to freeze the air much to my dismay, you went out again. I took this time to go to your room, which you hadn't bother to lock for a long time now (I hadn't stolen anything; I guess you supposed it was safe not to), and snooped through your journal papers. I was curious to your thoughts on the recent interactions, or lack thereof (side note: you still hadn't smiled as fully as the ten-year-old version of you did in that photo), and I wanted to know if I was handling the emotions well enough. Also it was hard sneaking around to see your reactions since your senses were sharp, but it was still a welcome challenge, just a cumbersome one.

I found one paper recently enough dated and plopped down in the wooden chair with the white piece in hand. Slouching back and crossing my ankles on the desk, I scanned my ice blue eyes over it.

"I wish mother or Gohan were still here," it said. "I'm a little confused. I don't understand why he's acting like this. It's kind of like... having an irritating little brother. But he's an android; all he wants is to kill people. But he hasn't done that for so long and has made no attempts to escape – if I didn't know better... I would suspect he was turning human."

I still don't know how to respond to that.

** ~end of chapter nine~**


	10. of jackets and snow

Author's Notes: ... *TWITCH* I had planned for this chapter to come out, like, two weeks earlier. But so much crap flew and hit the fan that it kept getting delayed. I _can't_ wait for school to be over. You have _no idea_ how happy I'll be... So anyway, sorry for the delay, but here it is now! ^_^ I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait (it's also rather long in itself) and pleases everyone's expectations! And I really want to thank the people who've reviewed! The responses, again, have been overwhelming. I feel _so_ loved!

And yes, there's only one chapter left after this one. *cry* But at least for me I'll actually have finished something... ^_^ And I hope the peeps are still in-char considering the story! (If they aren't, that would defeat my purpose, now wouldn't it? ^~)

Enjoy!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

"All You Have"

~chapter ten~

by: Rosalyn Angel

A few days later, I noticed _they_ were back.

"Oh, Johnathan!"

"Julia..."

And so I sat, grinding my teeth and waiting for the music to come on. I was sure the so-called "radio drama" would end any minute. I mean, how much love crap can two people possibly spit out?

At least there were a new actor and actress. They fared better than the first two (I presumed them dead; sadly the show must go on), but they still didn't manage to take the this-is-so-corny factor out of it. They just subdued it a little. A little.

"Julia, this is the night we marry!"

Did I forget to mention the cheesy piano music in the background? Yeah, that was bad too. It had to end soon. It had to.

"I just want you to know... how much you mean to me. You make me feel so–"

Around here I began to nod off.

"–possessive, Julia..."

I snapped awake so quickly I'm sure I got a headache.

You see, I still had a small problem. I managed to handle the emotions of you as a twin just fine – the pranks were going strong, played out only once in a while – but those other feelings were still pretty much untouched. I didn't know how to work with them: that possessive need for you to be around. I couldn't even begin to imagine how to treat them; I was at a total loss. The twin thing I was use to, but never did I feel a possession toward my sister... so I supposed my only hope was to observe how you humans handled them and go from there.

But... like _that_?

You passed by the room quietly on your way outside. I stared after you with a queer expression – I'm sure if a fish would have seen me then, it might have mistaken me for a distant relative.

"Oh, _Johnathan_..."

Ah... whatever works... right?

I had to sit and ponder this for a while. My first thoughts were actually wondering if you had been listening to the radio or not, but I decided to say you hadn't been and save myself from the humiliation.

Besides, you had seemed too disinterested in what I was doing anyway. You had had a solemn countenance lately. Maybe it was from the weather. Winter was nearing, and almost right on top of us. The weeks had gone by so quickly... Anyway, I would be bummed too; winter equals cold temperatures, and that just sucks. It would have made _me_ solemn, if Mother Nature didn't tend to piss me off by changing all the time. Can't we just have one fairly warm season all year long?

Oh. Yeah. Off-topic. Right.

I tried to recall all of those instants when I got so bored that I watched a movie on sis' and my T.V. (all stolen, of course). She usually picked those romance comedies; she said it was "mildly amusing to see those humans make fools of themselves just for a little affection," but I think she actually enjoyed them. Girls will be girls, eh?

Well, I thought of those because they seemingly, according to the now-over radio drama, held the key to my handling the remainder of my emotions towards you. (Don't get me wrong – I felt no affection for you. It was only a need for things not to change again... I hate change.) So, in my head, I sorted through what I had seen: between what humans did with possession and what they did with actual affection. I was interested in the former.

After several moments of grimacing and looking confused (humans are so weird), I came to a conclusion: I could handle the possessive nature I had, up 'til then, kept locked away. It was time to prove I was better than you humans, both physically _and_ mentally. Even though no one else would know of my grand accomplishment, _I_ would; and with that would come a satisfaction.

My only problem was how you would react.

Johnathan, Julia...

I couldn't be satisfied if I was dead, after all.

... wish me luck.

******

_ Finally, seen through the black cloudy night and drifting snow, his hand reaches forward without hesitation. His fingers touch a cold stone object, and they run down and along it. The rock is shaped as a dome with jagged edges and an uneven surface, but still his fingers slide smoothly. The chill the stone emits numbs them, and he feels it all; he feels the snow in his hair and on his shoulders, seeping through his denim jacket, and the melted drops gliding down his shoulder-length strands. But the stone's chill is the sharpest. He shuts his eyes and silently hangs his head._

******

You hadn't come back inside yet and it was getting awfully cold – no, I take that back. It was so cold I was convinced hell had frozen over. Didn't those demons ever pay their heating bills? Winter was definitely here.

Well, you had gone outside around the afternoon, and now it was dark. Where had you gone off to? Usually you grudgingly told me, as a warning not to do anything stupid while you were gone.

Ah well. Time to snoop around in your room.

I ventured to that location. After becoming bored with your journal and desk, I sorted through your closet. You had a severely limited selection of clothing. Sis would be disappointed.

Black shirt, grey pants, black sleeveless top, more grey pants, black, grey, black, black, yellow (ah! some color!) belt, more greys and blacks... blue jackets? But you _never_ went anywhere without one of your blue jackets. You had two of them, one with the sleeves torn off and the other with them intact. Both were still on their hangers among the rest of the drab garments. For a moment all I could do was stare, my hands raised in the action of flinging the clothes around to look at them; and then slowly an eyebrow rose.

Why were you out in the cold without your jacket? Why didn't you have it in the first place? That thing was your... your idol or something. You probably worshiped it when you thought no one was looking.

But hey, opportunity for me. Jackets are said to make one warm; I tested that theory.

Slightly paranoid you would come barging back in, I snatched the jacket with the sleeves and worked my arms through it. After cursing and straightening my own sleeves, I shrugged my shoulders until it felt comfortable. It was a little loose on me; you had a broader frame than I did. But immediately I felt the warmth it contained; and, smirking, I strolled back to the living room with my hands in my pockets. I looked around the space and found it still barren of life. It was boring.

Then another wicked idea formed. Sis used to hate it when I messed with her clothes; I felt a twin thing coming on. Simple, really: what would you do if you saw me wearing your jacket? Plus I wanted to see if I would still be warm and cozy outside.

I headed through the kitchen and came to the door. As soon as I opened it, a blast of icy air was sent into my face which made my teeth chatter. Damn winter. I wouldn't have been surprised if my ass had frozen off and shattered in tiny shards to the four corners of the earth. Well, if the earth had corners.

After the initial shock, I blinked and peered through the dark night. Clouds blocked out the stars and the moon shone faintly through like a ghost. To top it all off, big snowflakes were drifting down and covering everything. The ground, branches of trees, demolished buildings, your entire yard – everything was a glistening white. Perfect and untouched, unmarred by footprints, the ground rolled like sand dunes.

I tilted my head – yes, I had seen snow before but it was always rare, and to see so much at one time... it made me a little curious. Maybe the atmosphere was recovering some from all the ki we used to shoot up into it during battles. Or maybe not. The only thing I really understood was that my back and arms were still fairly warm. Neat.

I stepped out and closed the door behind me, taking in a deep breath of the cold air, then regretting it. My nose tingled from the chill. I scanned my eyes across the black (night) and white (snow) scene, thinking of it like one of those really old T.V. shows. I hadn't been outside in so long, fearing that my nose hairs would freeze, and to be in the open air kinda felt good. There was a lot more space too. My feet suddenly felt energetic and I wanted to run, to fly, to do anything–

Then I saw you. You had probably been standing there for hours. Why, I didn't know. But the snow had bunched up to right under your ankles and was only nudged aside a little bit, most likely from you just barely shifting your feet. Maybe those yellow boots kept you warm, but the thin fabric of those overly baggy pants did little. At least you wore a long-sleeved turtleneck, but it was still odd to see you without your jacket. Your back was turned toward me, and your lavender head was hanging, one hand in your pockets and the other holding something I couldn't see in front of you.

For a long time I just stared. What were you doing out here? Sleeping on your feet? Had you just forgotten your jacket? What were you looking at? Weren't you cold?

I looked down. So far all of the snowflakes that landed on me had melted and left an unpleasant damp sensation. You know, once I saw a few kids playing in the snow on a street, before I had blown it up. They were...

You started as soon as a nicely formed snowball nailed you in your back.

Eh, what'dya know? Some kids _are_ bright.

I barely contained my laugh as you whirled around bewildered to see my smirking face. The rectangular flat thing you had been holding floated to the ground in your surprise. I didn't pay attention to it though, because you were scowling at me. At first I guessed I had taken it too far, but then a white object loomed toward me with amazing speed and smacked me right in my face. You stood, now looking smug.

"Yeah," I said, grimacing and wiping my face off, rubbing around the corners of my eyes. "You throw a snowball instead of a ki ball. Real cute."

It surprised me when you answered in a light but edged tone. "Would you rather have your head blown off?" You paused then, knitting your eyebrows. "Hey, that's my..."

I didn't let you finished. As soon as I had gathered a ridiculous amount of snow into my arms, I quickly flew to float a few feet above you. Thanking the jacket for protecting my warmth, I watched as you craned your head up to look at me, and also grant me a good target.

Before the falling snow from my arms could hit you, you disappeared. I frowned. That could have been really funny, you know.

I looked around for wherever you would reappear. I knew you were somewhere near; I could feel your ki. Apparently you were familiar with snowball fights as well, because you seemed readily able to defend yourself: my face still stung and was probably a little red.

I felt something plop onto my head. Above me. Of course.

Glancing my icy blue eyes up, I saw you floating at the same distance I had been, with your crossed arms full of the white spectacle and a clear smirk on your face. You had a very scary resemblance to your father right then, and I began to fear what I had gotten myself into. Hey, you _could_ take someone's eye out with that stuff.

I wasn't quick enough and the snow bombarded me from above, pelting onto my hair and shoulders. I did manage to cover my face though. After shaking myself off, I growled and looked back at you. You had your arms empty but crossed still, and you seemed mildly amused wearing a smirk.

For a moment I questioned your playfulness, if you could call it that. It seemed to me more like an odd revenge, but there was a glint in your eyes that hadn't been there before. Maybe my pranks had rubbed off on you. Maybe you were finally accepting that you needed me around as much as I needed you.

Whatever it is, I thought, this means _war_.

I bursted away in a blast of blue energy, tearing up the snow and making it haphazardly flutter around me as I flew near the ground. Close enough to lower my hand to it, I scooped up some snow and turned so my front was facing the sky. You were following me, looking determined with a furrowed brow. I grinned and chucked the ball at you. You gasped and swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding it.

We went on like this for quite some time. Our forms flitted in and out, usually keeping close to the ground, and every few seconds one of the white shooting stars flying about would hit its target. Unfortunately you were faster than me, so I had to concentrate extra hard. I didn't want to lose; I never did tolerate it well in anything.

But my mind kept wandering to you. You seemed different for some reason. What had you been thinking about while you stood out here? ... I think I know. At least I like to assume I do. You see, before I had attempted to drop a mound of snow on you, I had seen what you had dropped from your hands: that photo of yours, the one with Gohan, your mother, and your smiling ten-year-old self. You had been reminiscing again. Then I marveled at something: as soon as I had announced my presence, you had dropped it, and even today there it lies forgotten. You never did pick it up again, even as the years passed by.

When your hand had opened, you were letting go of much more than just that photo... weren't you?

After so long you seemed to get tired. It was a lot more lengthy than a normal fight would be since we weren't trying to maim each other, just horribly humiliate. But still your energy wore out while mine was endless; I decided to have a bit of mercy (after getting you real good on the back of your head) and ceased fire. We floated noiselessly to the disturbed snowy ground and sat down. Your mind seemed to be elsewhere as you sighed and flung yourself onto your back, arms outstretched, looking up at the night sky. I was merely praising your jacket (handy lil' thing) as I sat with crossed legs, pondering what sarcastic remark to say next, when you spoke:

"I want it back."

I grinned, wrapping the said _it_ tightly around me. "No."

You frowned, still looking up. "I'll take it then. It's mine."

Was it just me, or did your voice sound distant?

"Go ahead and try," I said, sneering. I wasn't going to give up that article of clothing without a fight.

I heard you grunt, irritated, and then you shot forward faster than the eye could see. I gave a small "whoa!" and raised up my arms to block your attempt at taking the jacket away. The second time I grabbed your hands, palm-to-palm, and we grappled for power, the muscles in our arms tensing as we tried to push each other back and away. I had a slight advantage though: your energy was still low from moving around so fast for hours on end. I used this and laughed arrogantly while pushing harder, which irked you more.

Eventually I won and I knocked you down, much to the fulfillment of my pride. You were sent to lie on your back again and I heard you growl while moving to sit up. I didn't let you, thinking you might achieve your goal the third time you lunged. I pinned your arms down by holding your wrists. You moved to kick me away but I locked down both of your legs with one of my own, straining a good amount to keep my hold steady. You had your narrowed eyes turned on me and seemed rather displeased, but you didn't appear to be angry.

Again I mentally questioned you, and thought about your hand letting go of that picture and you actually playing what was supposedly a child's game with me. How I wished I could read your mind, but I wasn't complaining. Everything was normal. Everything was all right. Sis was gone, but I had another twin. I had my entertainment and shelter and food. Nothing was going to change as far as I was concerned, as long as you were around.

I just had to take care of those other nagging emotions in the back of my head; and right then, holding you down while you subtly scowled at me, it seemed like a good thing at the time. I might not get a better chance later, I thought. Just like in that radio drama and those movies, right? I was ready to tackle those feelings; I was strong enough, stronger than pathetic humans...

You blinked owlishly, your former expression melting off your face as I leaned down. I felt a little awkward, but I had a one-track mind. It's what you did when you felt possession toward someone, right?

Were my eyes glazed? It felt like it. Everything was so white, except for you: all dark clothes and slightly shivering from the cold and under my touch, my kiss.

Yeah. I kissed you just then. I'm sure you remember. Your eyes were wide open from shock. What did you think? You were frozen under me and didn't move. Maybe you had been outside for too long.

I kissed you with my eyes looking into yours; those blue orbs that held all of your emotions, the ones I was thrilled to drink in. Your erratic breaths mingled with my calm ones; my raven hair streaked down around my face and brushed along yours, the strands' ends barely touching the lavender spread around on the white, white snow. Still the flakes fell and still I kissed you like I had seen, taking examples on how to handle the possession; and you just stared and didn't respond at all, even when I sucked lightly on your lips, and, your jaw slack, probed my tongue into your mouth.

It wasn't so bad. Actually I kinda enjoyed it. Your mouth was hot, strikingly so in contrast to the air. The jacket was nothing compared to it. I liked it. What you thought I didn't know and I still don't. I would like to, though.

The need for oxygen made me break away, panting just a little. Without waiting for you to do something, I rolled off of you and lay on my back to your left side. You mechanically placed your hands onto your stomach, your elbow just barely touching my ribs. We exchanged no words for a long time; the only sound was the snowflakes drifting down and gently settling around us, sometimes clinging onto our hair and clothes (which were fairly damp by now, I noticed with a frown). They even caught onto our eyelashes, which we just blinked away. It was weird, looking up at them. The flakes started out small, way up high, and steadily grew bigger as they got closer.

Then I noticed the shaded moon behind the night clouds and mused. I had proven to myself that I was better than humans: I knew how to handle those emotions well now.

"Hey," I said, pointing up and sounding smug. Your breathing hitched once; maybe my voice had startled you out of your contemplating. "Look."

Vacantly your eyes followed my arm up and gazed at the hazy moon.

"I'm so powerful the moon is hiding from me," I said, smirking at it.

You didn't move to answer for a while, so my hand lowered slowly to rest on my stomach with the other. Then, softly, I heard a sound. Not just any sound – it was a low chuckle. Blinking, I turned my head to raise an eyebrow at you. Your eyes were closed and you were quietly snickering.

"What's so funny?" I demanded indignantly.

Right then you turned your head to me; and for the first time since I first met you, you smiled a real smile. Not the beginnings of one which you had given lately, not a smirk, not a sarcastic grin, but a _real smile_, like that ten-year-old, though there were no teeth shown. It wasn't overly enthusiastic, just relaxed, pleasant. The small, true smile made the harsh lines of anger and worry fade from your face. I thought I could see a tiny dimple in your left cheek.

And it was _me_ you were smiling at. Never did I really believe I would succeed in making you do so, but my curiosity to see it pushed me on; and when it actually happened I was dumbfounded. I couldn't think. Maybe the cold ground had finally penetrated the jacket and clothes and had made me numb. But I couldn't think.

And so you spoke in reply:

"You just tend to get off-topic."

** ~end of chapter ten~**


	11. of you

Author's Notes: ... *doesn't really know what to say here* ... *wings it* LIKE, OMFG, IT'S SO TOTALLY DONE! AHAHAHAHAHAH! IN YOUR _EYE_, REAL LIFE! I SO WIN! I AM THE BEST _EVER_! ... well, maybe not, but I finally did get it done!

Yes, you heard me right. Here it is. The final chapter of "All You Have", in its entirety. I just sat down one night, and it all came to me, for some strange, strange reason. The shounen-ai god smiles upon me this day. He says: "Ah, yes, grasshopper, you have completed your life's quest. Now, here are your other life's quest: that story here, and that one there, and this one here..." But that's not my point! My point is that this story is completed! Wee!

Can you tell how self-satisfied I am? ^_^;; I'm pathetically proud of myself.

But! I probably would have never gotten this done if it weren't for all of you wonderful, wonderful people who read and reviewed! Love you all! Raidne, Deanybean, Rez, Son Halo, newtypeshadow, Yami Kaosu—and various other people I've met because of this silly lil' ficcy. Hugs for all! _—_I said, _group hug_, damn it! ^_^

Just so you know, my writing ability has drastically improved because of this ficcy. Not only do I focus on getting peeps in-char a bit (a bit XD) more, but just overall, I like to think it's better. You know, gained experience or something. *cough* But enough of that crud. I really enjoyed writing this, especially with such neat reviewers supporting me despite the long hiatus between updates. It's almost sad to see it come to a close.

Anyway, this chapter skips around quite a bit, trying to encompass a lot of time passage-ness, or something. And... it may not be exactly the type of ending you were wanting. But hey, it's Juunana and Trunks! What else were you expecting? ^_^ *shirks from any projectiles that may come her way*

Hope you enjoy! XD Thanks again, and maybe even review this to let me know how I did! ^_^ Love all!

"All You Have"

~chapter eleven~

by: Rosalyn Angel

I've talked before, about time and how weird it is. About how our seconds are limited and how it gives our lives meaning; it's the reason why we go on as we do. I understand that. I may not have before, but I do now.

And with time comes change. They go hand-in-hand.

I hate change.

After our romp in the snow, the days wearily passed by. Night came earlier and the skies were usually grey. Not to mention it was butt-the-hell freezing, but I didn't care so much anymore. Why? Because I had my jacket. Yes, you heard that right. My jacket.

I kept it with me wherever I went. I had to, or else surely you'd steal it back. And you wanted it back too; it was rightfully yours, after all. Sometimes we'd grapple for it, like we did the first time, and to my dismay you generally won. But you could never rip the thing off my back—didn't wanna tear it and all. So I always emerged victorious, no matter the result of the wrestling. This made me a warm and happy android.

And that brings me to something else: you. After the night in the snow, you slowly... actually, I dunno what happened to you. You started becoming a little different after The Kiss. If it actually had something to do with me, I don't know; besides, it was just a kiss. Nothing big, besides that I had my satisfaction of being better on handling emotions than humans. I just had to keep like I was, and everything would be great. I was content. Even _if _you surprised me by acting a little weird.

It wasn't a _bad_ surprise, or a _bad_ different. It just caught me off-guard, like that smile of yours. I mean, seriously, I—Juunana—made you—Trunks—smile. You can't tell me that isn't a little queer.

The way you were acting, compared to before, could only be described as more accepting. You cooked an equal share of food for me; sometimes you even did my laundry without me bugging you to hell and back. When I sang along with the radio, you only frowned and shook your head, then continued on your way. When I pulled a prank, you smiled your smile; and though we still exchanged few words, living in comfortable silence, the air was almost visibly less tense than it had been before.

You were even a tad more playful, in my opinion. Besides the grapples for the jacket, which slowly died down as you reluctantly accepted that it was now mine, you did things you wouldn't have done before. Not necessarily pranks, but just little things.

I remember when I was again listening to the radio: you came in unexpectedly, glared, and changed the station on me. I gawked as my anger-driven was switched to something softer, slower, and ultimately depressing. Scoffing I reached to turn the radio's knob back to where it had been, but out of the corner of my eye I saw you raising an eyebrow and boring your dark blue eyes into my head. Immediately I felt like some type of naughty child, so I slouched in my seat, crossed my arms, and pouted. You seemed pleased and went into the kitchen. Several times I considered changing the station, but in the end I figured the music wasn't so bad. But it still wasn't cool.

By the way, if you were wondering about Johnathan and Julia, I'll have you know that I actually listened to them sometimes. I was curious; I wondered if they had any other bright ideas for me. Unfortunately or not, they just dragged on about the same basic thing, got married, had kids, and happily drove off into the sunset. Meh, gag me. But anyway...

I pondered your strange behavior before deciding to take the easy way out and read your journal papers. Impatiently I waited until you were out gathering food, or away helping rebuild the cities because "the plaguing androids were gone" (stupid, stupid humans), then I slunk into your room and rummaged through your desk as usual. Eventually I found what seemed to be a good one, and plopped my rear into the chair to read.

It was about the kiss. To my amusement, it had been your first one, but the significance of that to humans was lost to me. You went on about how you weren't used to it, and how you weren't sure of what to do. But what intrigued me was that you admitted you "liked the comfort it brought." I was the only one around then who offered such, I suppose, and humans _are_ pitiful after all; they need that so-called closeness. And I'd be lying to say I hadn't enjoyed that night in the snow: it had been a small thrill, and I needed my thrills where I could get them. The only problem was that I hadn't kissed you since then.

Well, I thought, I'll just have to do that more often.

When you returned that evening, you were welcomed back with a smooch.

So days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Winter was replaced by flowering spring, and that was slowly turning into summer. My jacket was retired into my closet and you allowed it to stay there, wearing instead your other one with the ripped-off sleeves. The rain showers made the ground muddy, and probably harder to work in around the construction areas. That was why you weren't gone as much, and such was good, because sometimes I felt insanely bored when you weren't there.

I took care to provide you with more kisses: I found myself liking them more and more. The thing is, I was always the one to initiate it, and always the one to lead it. You were awkward and rather clumsy, but after you loosened your stiff muscles, closed your eyes, and let me do as I will, the awkwardness was almost tantalizing. It made me feel in control, like again I had power over you. And to think to a certain point I actually did. It made me feel kind of high to hear you moan and know that I had caused it.

But we never did get too intimate; I didn't quite know how (or else I would have, believe me), and you just couldn't. I don't think you truly understood why you let me kiss you. I don't think I truly understand why I kissed you... I just did, and it felt good, so I kept doing it. Besides, you were _mine_, and I had to lay my claim somehow.

So that's how we were for a while. I didn't think much of it, just content to be where I was and to have what I had. But my view on that shifted a little, one rainy spring night, when again I read your journal.

I sat in that plain wooden chair, my back to the window and facing the desk. A light rain shower had started a few minutes after you left to get more food and other necessities. Briefly I smirked. You had gotten caught in the rain. Heh. The evidence of such was the pitter-patter of the drops against the window which revealed the blackening sky. The stars and moon were covered by clouds—a rather dreary night to be outside.

Once again I was passing time going through the papers scattered on your desk. They usually proved to be pretty entertaining. Finally I settled on a rather lengthy journal entry—looks like you had been thinking again. This particular piece of paper was a little crinkled around the edges, like you had considered throwing it away, but it was flat enough to be legible.

My ice blue eyes scanned it, searching for any phrases that stood out. And I did find one, believe me, but now I wish I hadn't.

It read: "It's very obvious now that I think about it. Ever since I first saw him, he hasn't aged a day."

I paused. Yeah, so? I thought. Big whoop.

"It's weird, thinking how much I've grown up, and he hasn't..."

And then I understood where it was headed. Yeah, I could remember you from when you were a crying infant in your mother's arms. I've seen you as a determined youth, a rebellious teenager, and a pretty messed-up young man. But then I look in the mirror, and I see me, the same as I was so many odd years ago. Sometime before I would have liked that, seeing that I hadn't changed, but it all suddenly hit me real hard in the face.

There was one thing I knew I could never stop from happening, one thing I couldn't defend against even with a high power level, the _one thing_ I knew that would take you away from me while I just sat there stupidly and watched this life change all over again.

And that was dear ol' Father Time.

Time, I mused, the source of all change in the whole dumb world. That just figured. Right when I thought everything would be perfect forever, the most obvious thing right under my nose decides to crawl up my nostrils and into my brain. It was a most unpleasant realization. I knew what change caused—a whole crapload of stuff happens, stuff I wasn't willing to go through again. But there was nothing I could do about it besides wait, and oh, how I despise waiting.

I was unusually pissed off that evening when you came back with the supplies. I hated everything at that point, hated how I survived the effects of my sister's death just to find out I had to survive another—I'm lazy, thank you, so one time is enough. Yet you made me feel all these human emotions and then decided to have the gall to age and die on me? Who did you think you were, tossing me around like that? You started this, killing my sister yet leaving me alive, all because of your own insecurities. Everything was your fault.

Through my confused and enraged mind, I still found you upon your return putting away the food, and I grabbed you and turned you around. I think you said something, still wet from the rain and your hair heavy around your face, maybe asked what I was doing; but whatever it was, it didn't matter, because I forcefully kissed you and ceased any words you had left. You gave a small surprised cry into my mouth, probably wondering why I was being so rough, but I only shoved you back against the counter, locking your wrists against it with my hands. I felt your familiar warmth and breathed your familiar breath, and it calmed me just enough to relax. You seemed to sense my mind dulling into blissful pleasure, and kissed back in your own naive way.

I had never so strongly felt my possessive nature as I did then, not even when I thought that Cell could have killed you, because age was inevitable, and I wanted to shout at time that you were only mine.

Unfortunately, time didn't care to listen.

It happened gradually. At first I didn't notice the subtle things, like the barely visible crow's feet at the corners of your eyes—probably from so much glaring. And dare I say you even had little lines from smiling, because you did that in abundance later on. I tried not to notice as the years went by, because I had pushed the notion to the back of my head to concentrate on you, just you, my twin, my mirror opposite, my obsession.

So long had passed, I was even able to freely walk among the growing populace, and no one bothered to glance my way. Of course I never used ki in front of them; you forbade it. Though, early on, one little girl did kick me in the knee and claim I was a stupid android before her mother scolded her and dragged her away.

Yeah, you thought that was real funny, didn't you? Good thing we only got a _few_ stares from that. She was real lucky I didn't chop her legs off. Then again, if I had, it would have only proved her point.

But, back to you. What to say, oh, what to say? Hm, I know.

I remember the day death overtook you.

Years passed like a blur, and I trained my eyes on you as often as I could. Surprisingly you aged beautifully—I thought, maybe, it was because of your Saiyan blood. But whatever it was, your body stayed firm, your skin tan, and your eyes a dark blue. Yes, there were the lines of age in your face, but only there to accent your features. Your hair forever was at your shoulders and lavender, but there were streaks of white, just enough to make you look wiser, not older.

But I knew you were older. I had seen the seasons pass, seen your walk grow a little slower, even though you remained independent, just as you were at age eighteen. It might have amazed me, to see your stubborn will, to hear your voice still low, scratchy, and strong... but it was still weaker than before, and we both knew it.

By Saiyan standards, you were probably still rather young. Maybe even by human standards—I don't know. The point is, you were tired. Even with me around to kiss you, to feel possessive over you and make you smile, you were still tired, and I hated it.

It was winter again. Snowing, even. Such fond memories we had of snow. So we lay out in the lawn, me in my stolen jacket, and you in a thick turtleneck, side-by-side, simply very used to having the other there. It all felt so normal then, to just watch the snowfall from above, feeling cold on the ground and making people-shaped indents in the white scenery. Maybe you could say I got used to the cold as well. But whatever.

Night. It was very clearly night. It was almost ritual for us to do this, like a weird way of remembering how our relationship (could you call it that?) evolved unexpectedly in the winter so long ago. But, watching the heavens, I realized I didn't quite know what you felt towards me. Ever since that one journal entry, I had veered away from them as a source for your thoughts. So that left me wondering, but I just never bothered to ask. I went on my way, doing what I did, and you did yours. That was all. Life was life. Normal was normal.

And time was change.

"It's nice," I heard you say quietly. "The snow and sky, I mean."

It looked the same to me as it did every year. "Yeah, I guess."

I heard you take in a shaky breath, and I turned my head to look at you. Bits of snow stuck to my black hair. You eyes were closed—I saw the crow's feet. I saw the white in your hair that was not snow, and then I instantly just _knew_.

"It's been a long time," you murmured. "I wonder how mom and Gohan are doing."

"They're fine," I bit out. Don't know why.

"I wonder what they think of me now, lying here with an android..."

I found reason to smirk. "They probably think you're plain crazy."

I heard a chuckle. "Yeah... It is crazy."

There was quiet. It was always so quiet during winter nights. And then the quiet grew too long, and I came to hate it. I came to hate a lot of things.

It wasn't unexpected, not at all. But when you turned your head to me, I couldn't help but stare numbly. What else was I supposed to do? I'm not a sentimental human.

And so, you gave me your last smile, and slowly died in the silence.

That's it. Here I am. At the end of it all, here I am. It's still snowing, I'm still kneeling in front of this rock, and, most importantly of all, you're still dead.

Are you happy now? I hope you are. It took a lot of effort to bury you, you know, so you better appreciate it. The task itself wasn't hard, I suppose, but still...

I hate change. I hate time. I hate about everything right now. I hate my sister, I hate the cave we used to live in, I hate your house, I hate your mother, I hate you. I feel bitter because I feel a lot more than an android should, and it's your fault.

I should be destroying humans with my sister right now, but I can't anymore, because it'd feel too weird without her around. It wouldn't be the same, especially if there's no one strong like you to fight me.

It's actually really cold right now, I hope you know. I guess you don't though, being so snug underground. Well, your jacket serves some purpose. It also smells like you, like lilacs. I think I'm beginning to hate it too.

So you like my side of the story? I know you were wondering how everything turned out the way it did. Truthfully, so was I. I would have liked to hear your side from you, not just the journal. I always liked getting you to admit stuff, after all. But it's a little too late for that, isn't it?

Undoubtably your story would have been different. You probably thought higher of me than I actually am. You probably felt something towards me, like in that stupid radio drama. 

Let's get one thing straight though. I never loved you. Love and need are both very different things. I needed you, but I never loved you.

Just... understand...

... you were all I had.

******

_ Finally the man stands from the snow-covered ground. He stares down at the simple boulder placed as a gravestone, mouth a straight line, and then turns on his heel. There he stays for a while longer, hands in his pockets, until he walks away, the falling snow covering his footsteps as if he were never there._

~fin~


End file.
